


The Children who Lived

by ESawyer



Series: The Children Who Lived [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: AU, Don't really follow canon but also kinda do, Eventual Eight Year Fic, Harry is a Twin, James is alive, Sixth year onwards, Slytherin!Twin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-07-03 06:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 60
Words: 239,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESawyer/pseuds/ESawyer
Summary: "They'll be famous - legends - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Potter Day in the future - there will be books written about them - every child in our world will know their name!"Harry and Lydia Potter are the only known survivors of the Killing Curse at just a year old. Brought up in the Muggle and thrust into a world of magic, they are kept together through the strength of love and sheer stubbornness.Nothing in their life is promised, except one thing; whatever happens, it won't be easy.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually already written like 20 chapters of this but it was completely different and completely terrible. So, I deleted it and now I'm starting all over again because I hate myself. 
> 
> If you didn't read the last one - and you probably didn't - I'm just going to explain a few things: 
> 
> The story probably won't stick to canon. I mean, it's practically impossible to keep it canon considering the differences in everything. 
> 
> For the purpose of this, Fred and George are only one year older than Harry, Ron and Hermione, as opposed to two, but they still leave school early because it would be weird if they didn't. 
> 
> And finally, this is going to be a slow burn Drarry fic on top of everything else. So if you don't like Drarry, you could probably read it for a while until I actually make it obvious, because when I say slow burn I mean slooooooow burn. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this nevertheless. 
> 
> -E.

_**YEAR 1** _

 

Lydia Potter shivered as she clung onto her brothers hand and walked into the Great Hall. She was so nervous that she couldn't even admire the candles that seemingly floated in mid air or the fact that the ceiling of the Hall was open to the heavens. She barely took any notice of the four long house tables, the way that everyone was staring at her and Harry or the fact that there was a hat singing to them. Her bright green eyes skirted around the room and she nervously tried to keep her hat from falling off her mane of unruly black hair. Whoever had designed these hats hadn't taken uncontrollable hair into consideration. 

Someone sat at the table closest to them nudged her hard in the side. She turned her head to look at him.

"Are you the Potters?"

He pointed at the scar on her forehead. She blushed and quickly nodded her head, looking away. Aunt Petunia had brought her up to be ashamed of the scar on her head because it wasn't 'ladylike" - as if she had any control of whether she wanted it on her head or not. Not that she had had to be taught to dislike it, Lydia couldn't remember a time when she had looked at her face and been happy to see the scar there. She thought that maybe she wouldn't have minded it so much it wasn't so _big._ It started at the very top of her forehead and zigzagged down her nose in a lightning bolt shape and stopped just at her cheekbone. It was impossible to cover up and always earned both her and Harry funny stares off people. 

Lydia turned her attention back to Professor McGonagall and watched the sorting take place. Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones both became Hufflepuffs whilst Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom became Gryffindors. Draco Malfoy, Daphne Greengrass, Vincent Crabbe and Greggory Goyle all became Slytherins. Once Pansy Parkinson joined them all at the Slytherin table too, Harry's name was called. 

A silence fell over the Hall and all eyes were on him as he slowly made his way to the three-legged stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat on his head and a few moments passed in silence until- 

"GRYFFINDOR!" 

The Gryffindor table exploded in applause. Percy the Prefect leapt up at once and began to shake his hand whilst Fred and George Weasley were shouting, "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!" over and over again. It took a few moments for the Gryffindor table to become quiet again and Lydia began to panic at the though of what their reaction would be if she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor. Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff probably wouldn't be too bad...

"Potter, Lydia!" McGonagall called and silence fell again. 

Feeling as though her robes were too heavy and weighing her down, Lydia pushed through the crowd and slowly lowered herself onto the three-legged stool. McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat on her head and it fell over her eyes. 

"Ah..." A small voice said in her ear, "Now, this is interesting...your brother begged to not be put in Slytherin but I don't hear that here...no..." It fell silent for a moment, "You've a good brain, you're clearly loyal...very brave...hmm...but there's just something about you...there's something _more_ to you-"

Lydia screwed her eyes shut as it shouted the last word out loud. 

"SLYTHERIN!" 

There was no shouts of applause. No one stood up to chant, "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!" excitedly. People began to mutter to themselves, leaning closer to the friends and shooting strange looks Lydia's way. Lydia automatically sort out Harry and their eyes met. He was sat facing Percy Weasley and looked very shocke, but then he smiled at her and nodded his head. That was the only reassurance she needed. She carefully jumped off the stool and made her way over to the Slyhtherin Table, sitting next to Draco Malfoy. 

"See, I told you you didn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," He whispered to her. 

"I think I have a good idea of who the wrong sort is," Lydia whispered back, turning her back on him.

She made a great show of clapping as loudly as possible when Ron was sorted into Gryffindor. Her fellow Slytherins glared at her but she couldn't care less. When George Weasley waved at her from the Gryffindor table, she felt as though things might not be so bad for her. 

Harry settled into life in Hogwarts much more graciously than Lydia did. He seemed to become the Gryffindor Golden Boy quite quickly; he was just the right amount of mischievous, kind, clever and a ridiculously good Quidditch player. And, most importantly, he was in Gryffindor. Lydia, on the other hand, was clever but she kept it to herself and so her full academic potential was never quite discovered that year. She wasn't on the Quidditch team, wasn't nearly as endearing as her brother and was in Slytherin. 

Lydia very quickly learned that no one liked Slyhtherins. When the First Years got lost in the gigantic castle, people sneered and turned their backs on them, leaving them to be late to almost every single lesson. Lydia didn't blame them. Even _she_ didn't like the Slytherins. She tried her best to not spend any time in the frightfully depressing common room set underneath the Black Lake. The other girls in her year - Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis - were horrible. In the first night, they had made fun of Hermione Granger and called her a Mudblood. Lydia then made a point of marching up to her the next day outside of Potions and introducing herself to her. 

Indeed, if it wasn't for Harry, Ron and Hermione Lydia thought that she might have been very unhappy at Hogwarts. Ron was a bit slow to get over his prejudice against Slytherins but once he realised that Lydia was as much of a Potter as Harry, he didn't really care. She was probably the only student who paid no attention to the house tables and defiantly sat at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Ron and Hermione at meal times. The Weasley's were quick to adopt Lydia as one of their own in the same way they did with Harry and the other Gryffindors affectionately referred to her as the 'Slytherdor'. When Christmas rolled around, Fred and George 'rescued' her from the Slyhtherin common room and told her that the only place she would be able to enjoy Christmas was in Gryffindor Tower. Mrs Weasley even sent her a Gryffindor red Christmas jumper with a silver snake on it. 

At the end of the school year when Gryffindor won the House Cup, Lydia took one glorious moment to pretend that she was Gryffindor and imagine the tie on her neck being scarlet and red instead of emerald and silver. 

**_YEAR 2_ **

"Oh, it's definitley her," 

"Do you think?" 

"Yes! Why else would she be sorted into Slyhterin?" 

"I heard she put a curse on Harry so now he just does whatever she says," 

"But she's best friends with a Muggle born!" 

" _Puh-lease_ , that's just to throw everyone off the sent of her being Slyhtherins heir," 

Lydia grit her teeth and walked past the fourth year Ravenclaws who had been gossiping about her. She wouldn't have minded it so much if they were more quiet about it. Everywhere she turned, people were saying that she was the Heir of Slytherin. Older siblings dragged their younger siblings out of her way as she walked down corridors. Some people even came up to her just to tell her that they were Pureblood. 

"I truly could not care less about your blood status," she snapped, "My best friend is Muggle-born!" 

She arrived in the girls bathroom in a bad mood. Hermione was sat cross legged on the bathroom floor tending to the potion whilst Ron and Harry were throwing a screwed up piece of parchment at each other. Somewhere in the depths of the bathroom, Moaning Myrtle was crying. 

"Bad day?" Harry asked. 

"Why do people feel the need to tell me there blood status as if I care? I'm not even Pureblood!" She exclaimed. 

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said firmly, "Once we get into the Slytherin common room, Malfoy will confess and he'll get expelled," 

"I still don't know why Lydia can't just let us into the common room," Ron said. 

"Because Malfoy isn't going to tell us anything," Lydia said, "I can tell you the password but that's it. I can't be in the room when you're questioning him, either." 

"What is the password?" Harry asked curiously. 

Lydia made a face. 

"Pureblood,"

As Lydia could have predicted, the entire plan went wrong. Hermione somehow turned herself into a strange cat-human hybrid and the sixty minutes went by faster than Lydia could have ever imagined. Out of pure curiosity, Lydia left her dormitory to see what was happening in the common room just as Harry and Ron fled, slowly turning from Crabbe and Goyle and back into themselves. As always, Malfoy sneered at her when he walked past her and muttered something about how she was a disgrace to the name of Slytherin.

It was only when Hermione became one of the petrified muggle-borns that the rest of the school seemed to realise that she was not the Heir of Slytherin. Some even found her to apologise to her but Lydia couldn't care less what people thought about her anymore - all she wanted was to have her best friend back. This longing somehow lead to her and Harry being trapped in the Chamber of Secrets with Ginny Weasley and, even stranger, somehow surviving. 

"Do you know what this means, Lydia?" Dumbledore asked her.

She was sat in his office with Harry. She was tired and achy from the nights events and it was all she could do to not drop her head onto Harry's shoulder and fall asleep. 

"I can kill big snakes with swords?" 

"Not quite," Dumbledore smiled, "That sword belonged to Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. As did the Sorting Hat. The Sword of Gryffindor will present itself to a Gryffindor in a time of great need. Only a _true_ Gryffindor could have pulled that sword out of the hat," 

"But I'm in Slytherin," 

"That may be true - but we are not just our houses," Dumbledore said, "For example, your friend Hermione Granger would do just as well in Ravenclaw as she does in Gryffindor. Ronald Weasley would be an excellent addition to Hufflepuff House as much as he is to Gryffindor. And you would be a terrific Gryffindor, if it weren't for the fact that you excel so much in Slytherin," 

Lydia ended her second year feeling the proudest she had ever done of being in Slytherin. 

**YEAR 3**

"So, how did you end up in Slytherin?" Professor Lupin asked.

Harry was still in the hospital wing from falling off his broom in the last Quidditch match and Lydia was trying to spend as much time away from the Slytherins as possible. None of them had been particularly nice about the fact that her brother had nearly died and she had to leave before she was accused of trying to kill the entirety of Slytherin House. Lupin had found her wandering the grounds and invited her into his office for a cup of tea. 

"Why - is there a problem with that?" Lydia asked, her green eyes flashing in the way hat they did when she was gearing up for a fight. 

Lupin laughed pleasantly. "No, of course not. I just find it strange, that's all. Your father was the most Gryffindor person I could think of, as was your mother," 

"Oh," Lydia said quietly. "I don't know. The Sorting Hat said there was something more to me and decided on Slytherin. I didn't ask to be put there...but I also didn't ask not to," 

Lupin nodded and took another sip of his tea. He looked like he was in deep in thought and Lydia didn't want to interrupt him. Then he said- 

"You remind me a lot of your mother, actually. And it's not just the eyes," He smiled at her, "You're just the right mix of quite terrifying and abnormally kind whilst Harry is a much more toned down further of his your father," 

"Toned down?" Lydia asked, frowning. 

"James Potter had all the energy in the world and it never seemed to run out. It was fantastic when he was on the Quidditch pitch but a nightmare elsewhere. Harry seems to be able to control it a lot better than James ever could," Lupin explained, "They'd be very proud of you both," 

"Even though I'm in Slytherin?" 

"Even more so because you're in Slytherin," Lupin said, "Your mother did not come to Hogwarts with any of the prejudices of the Wizarding World and James very quickly unlearned them when he met m-different people. I think if he knew you were in Slytherin, he would learn to love Slytherin as you clearly have," 

"I don't know if I love-"

"You love Slytherin traits," Lupin corrected, "You're proud to be cunning and determined. You're proud to be resourceful and clever. You're just not proud of the way your fellow Slytherins conduct themselves, but that's OK because you haven't given into them. The easy way out for you would be to friends with Draco Malfoy and entertain his own prejudices, but you don't. You don't realise this, Lydia, but the rest of the school see you for who you are-"

"A Potter?" 

"No, they see you as the one Slytherin who decided you were going to show your house in a better light. The teachers see you shout down your fellow students when they're being cruel to a second year Muggle-born. They see the friendships you've formed with the Ron and Hermione, but also someone like Neville Longbottom,"

"I also like the colour green," 

Lupin laughed. 

"That too," 

Months later, when Ron was pulled into the Whomping Willow by that great big black dog, Lydia felt like she finally understood  why the concept of fraternity. Without so much a second thought, she took her wand out and ran after Ron, somehow dodging the trees thrashing branches and dived after him. She arrived in the shrieking sack and ran up the stairs, finding Ron with none other than Sirius Black. 

What happened over the next hour was a blur; Sirius Black wasn't the man she thought he was and neither was Peter Pettigrew. It then turned out that Professor Lupin hadn't been nothing close to truthful with them and Lydia very quickly decided that she never wanted to come face to face with a werewolf ever again. There had even been a glorious half hour in which Lydia thought that she and Harry would finally get away from the Dursley's but, like always, things didn't quite work out in their favour. Lydia wasn't sure why she still got upset when things went wrong anymore. 

Days later, Lydia was waiting in the common room before the end of school feast that she didn't even want to go. She was sat in the armchair by the window that looked out into the Black Lake. This was her favourite place to sit in the common room; she found nothing more comforting than looking out into the depths of the lake, occasionally spotting the squid and even a mermaid once in a while. She'd even argue that it was more comforting than sitting in those really comfy chairs by the fire in Gryffindor common room.

"I can't believe Dumbledore ever appointed that filthy Werewolf to teach us!" Malfoy sneered from the other side of the room, "I can't believe we were taught by that oaf Hagrid and Loopy Lupin in the same year!" 

Before she knew it, Lydia was on her feet and had taken a leaf out of Hermione's book and slapped him full in the face. 

"What do you think you're doing?" He bellowed. 

"Professor Lupin and Hagrid are better men then you'll ever be," She yelled, "This is the first year we've ever had a decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, so don't you _dare_ insult him," 

Malfoy stood up and towered over her, so Lydia did what anyone would do and stood on the table behind her. Some people laughed but quickly shut up when they saw her withering glare. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. 

"You just wish you were in Gryffindor, don't you? You have no sense of house pride," He spat, "You're a disgrace,"

"Oh no, I have a lot of house pride. Just not for the same Slytherin as you," She hissed, "And, for the record, I'm a very proud disgrace," 

Even Malfoy didn't have a comeback for that one. If there was one thing you couldn't take away from a Slytherin, it was how proud they were. 

 

**_YEAR 4_ **

"Miss Potter! What on earth are you doing? It is way past your curfew!" McGonagall yelled.

Lydia glanced at her watch. It was midnight and she hadn't even realised. It was night before their classes started and she was slowly making her way back to the dungeons. 

"I'm sorry, Professor, it's just that I can't get into my common room," Lydia said. 

"Why? Do you not know the password? Has no one told you?" 

'Oh no, they told me," Lydia said, "With quite a lot of glee, actually. I just don't like it," 

"Miss Potter, just because you dislike a password doesn't mean-"

"No, Professor, I mean...I don't like to say the word. It's awful," Lydia said quickly, not wanting her to think she was being childish, "It's the m word," 

McGonagall nodded at her.

"I understand, Potter," She said, "I can let you in without using password now and I will talk to Professor Snape in the morning."

"Thank-you, Professor,"

"I must ask you this though - how do your fellow housemates treat you? I never see you with any other Slytherins outside of class hours. I know you talk to the younger Slytherins, but I never see you with Miss Parkinson and her group," McGonagall said.

"Honestly, Professor, they don't like me very much," Lydia shrugged, "But I don't mind. I have Harry, Ron and Hermione. That's all I need,"

"Very well, Potter, I shall see you in class tomorrow,"

\---

Lydia had spent her first three years at Hogwarts thinking that there was nothing scarier than Lord Voldemort. But that was before she was introduced to the concept of the Yule Ball. If she wasn't a school champion, she probably wouldn't have given the entire thing much thought, but because she would have to open the Ball with the other champions, she spent most of her day worrying about it. Suddenly, there seemed to be a lot more boys in the school than usual and every single one of them were _so_ annoying. There were no Slytherins who she wanted to give the time of day, most Gryffindor boys were just too loud, the Ravenclaws were intimidating and all of the Hufflepuffs seemed to have already asked someone. 

"It's easy for you," Harry muttered, shoving his hands in his robes against the cold, "Girls don't have to ask - boys do!" 

Lydia rolled her eyes. 

"That's all well and good but if no one asks me then I'm going to look like a right prat dancing with myself," Lydia snapped, "The Slytherin thing doesn't help either," 

"Maybe it's just your face," Harry joked, "You can't blame everything on being Slytherin," 

"Jokes on you because we're twins," Lydia sighed, "Although, I will admit that the hair might put people off," 

"Most likely," Harry agreed, "I will be honest though, I think you mess it up even more by sticking your wand in it," 

Lydia made a face at him. She had very quickly discovered that the best place to keep her wand was in her bun. Not only did it make for easy access should someone try to attack her, but it also kept her hair in place. The only problem was that when she actually took her wand out in class, she would have to spend fifteen minutes in the next class trying to make it look socially acceptable again. 

"It's practical," Lydia shrugged.

"Until someone comes and grabs it out of your hair from behind," Harry pointed out. 

"Don't give anyone ideas!" She said. The bell rang and Lydia sighed. "Gotta go to Ancient Runes. See you later," 

Hermione was already in the classroom when she got there and looked very happy. She was grinning at everyone who walked in. Worried that Hermione might have finally cracked, Lydia slowly sat down next to her and turned to her before Professor Babbling arrived. 

"What's up with you?" Lydia asked. 

"I...I have a date to the Yule Ball," She said quietly. 

"WHAT?" Lydia screamed so loudly that people turned around to stare, "Sorry. Who?" 

"Don't tell anyone," She whispered, "And I mean it. Not even Harry or Ron," 

"Oh my god, it's Malfoy isn't it?" Lydia whispered. 

"What? No? Don't be silly!" Hermione said, "No...it's Viktor Krum,"

Lydia almost shouted again but she very quickly stopped herself by clapping her hands over her mouth. 

"He's an international Quidditch player, 'Mione!" Lydia hissed, "Merlins beard!" 

"Don't tell anyone," Hermione repeated. 

"Cross my hear and hope to die," Lydia said, "Pinky swear and all that," 

When the bell rang, she and Hermione parted ways. Hermione was going to meet Ron and Harry for lunch whilst Lydia was going to sit in an empty classroom to catch up on all the work she missed because of the Triwizard tournament. She tried to avoid going to the library due to the fact that people stared at her and asked her stupid questions about dragons as if she was suddenly an expert on them. 

Ignoring the fact that she was absolutely starving, Lydia closed the door of the classroom behind her and she piled her book next to her and began to work. In forty five minutes, she had managed to write an essay for Professor Snape and answered the five questions that Professor Sprout had set them about Bubotuber pus which still remained one the worst things that she had ever had to deal with in Herbology. 

"Lydia?" Someone called.

She peered over the top of her books and saw George Weasley hovering near the door. He looked quite akward on his own without Fred or Lee Jordan. 

"What?" 

"Oh, you're there," he said, bounding over to her. He pulled a chair up to her desk. 

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. 

"I've already told you the password for the Slytherin common room _and_ planted Dungbombs in Marcus Flints bag. What more could you possibly want?" 

He grinned at her. 

"And I am more than thankful for you doing that but I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to the Yule Ball with me,"

Lydia accidentally blotted her parchment as she jumped slightly at the question. 

"Yes," 

"Yeah?"

She couldn't help it but she started to giggle. 

"Yes," She repeated, "I will go to the Yule Ball wit you,"

He laughed and high-fixed her, jumping up. "I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at quarter to eight," He said, before he closed the door behind him, he popped his head back round. "I should warn you though, I'm a terrific dancer," 

Before dinner that evening, Lydia, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the stone steps of the Entrance Hall wrapped up in their cloaks and scarves. It was just beginning to snow but the four of them were so frozen that they couldn't bring themselves to move. Ron was in a fowl mood - he still hadn't been able to find a partner for the Yule Ball and was beginning to panic. Harry was doing what he always did when faced with an important task and was going out of his way to ignore it. Lydia still hadn't told Harry or Ron that she was going to the Ball with George but had wasted no time in telling Hermione who had squealed and accidentally hit Neville in the stomach due to the fact that she was flapping her arms about. 

"I have an idea!" Ron exclaimed, "There's four of us, isn't there?"

"Congratulations, you can count," Lydia said. 

"Hermione can go to the Ball with Harry and I can go with you!" He said, looking immensely proud of himself. 

Lydia and Hermione exchanged looks whilst Harry nodded and said, "That's not a bad idea, actually," 

"No, it's not," Hermione agreed, "Except that it wouldn't work," 

"Why?" Ron asked. 

"Becuase we both have dates," Lydia said quickly. 

"Who?" Ron asked. 

"I'm not saying who I'm going with because you'll laugh," Hermione said. 

Harry turned to Lydia.

"Who are you going with?" He demanded. 

"George," 

Ron yelped and almost toppled down the steps. Harry had to reach out and grab him, pulling him back up. 

"George?" He exclaimed, "As in George Weasley?" 

"How many other George Weasleys do we know?" Lydia asked. 

"But he's my brother!" 

"He is," 

"And you're my best friend!" 

"I am," 

"It's weird!" 

"I'm sure you'll move on from it, mate," 

\---

Lydia gasped for breath as she finally broke the surface of the Black Late and spat water out of her mouth. She muttered the counter-spell for the Bubble-Head Charm just as George opened his eyes and yelled. He looked around for a moment before he spotted Lydia. 

"I did not sign up for this!" He yelled. 

"And you think I did?" She shouted back, laughing. 

They swam back to shore together to raucous cheers from the crowds. Percy ran to the edge of the lake and dragged them both out, wrapping them up in thick fuzzy blankets. Lydia looked around but she couldn't see any of the other Champions. 

"Am I first?" Lydia asked Percy. 

He nodded, grinning. 

"Yes! You got back in forty minutes!" He bustled off back to the judges.  

"Who knew snakes could swim?" George said behind her.

"Oh, shut up you," Lydia laughed, wiping her face on the blanket.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip in two weeks," George said, "I think we should probably go together," 

"I think we probably should go to Hogsmeade together," Lydia agreed.

\---

_"Avada Kedavra,"_  

Lydia tried to scream but no sound came out. All she could do was watch in horror as Cedric was murdered right before them. He lay spread-eagle on the floor, staring up at nothing. She tried to get towards him but Harry launched himself forward and dragged her backwards. 

"Don't," He whispered in her ear, "Your ankle is broken. Don't move,"

Tears spelled over her cheeks and she whimpered slightly, collapsing against Harry. He put his arm around her again and started whispering for her to stay calm but that was seeming quite impossible as Wormtail moved closer and closer to them. Lydia wanted nothing than to just go back to Hogwarts, but they were miles away from the castle now and she was quite sure that she would probably never see the place again. 

Wormtail grabbed them and tied them to a headstone. Lydia couldn't care less about anything anymore, she was just hoping for a quick death. What happened over the next half an hour seemed to have been pulled from her worst nightmares. Lord Voldemort rose from the dead and his Death Eaters came to his side once more. Lydia's broken ankle was throbbing and her scar was hurting so much that she thought her head might explode.

Lydia turned her head to look at Harry and tried to take in every detail of his face in case it was the last time she ever saw him. As Lord Voldemort spoke, Lydia screwed her eyes shut and tried to think of her happiest memories; Harry's reassuring nod when she was sorted into Slytherin, laughing with Harry, Ron and Hermione after watching Draco Malfoy desperately try to save his potion from melting his cauldron and George Weasley leaning closer to her after the Yule Ball-

"Take them down, Wormtail," Lord Voldemort said, his read eyes narrowing dangerously, "We shall duel,"

Lydia was ripped from her memory as she fell from the headstone and landed on her ankle. She yelled out in pain and Voldemort laughed along with his death eaters. Wormtail shoved her wand into her hand and pushed her forward. She tripped up again and laughter rose up around them again.

"It seems that Slytherin House isn't as honourable as it once was," Lord Voldemort sneered, gesturing to Lydia who now clinging onto Harry. "They seem to let just anyone in now,"

"Fuck off," Lydia snapped.

Harry groaned, "Shut up, Lyds," 

"Does Dumbledore not teach his star students manners anymore?" Voldemort said.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," Harry whispered in her ear, "Disarming spell. You got that right?" He put his arm around her waist to stop her from falling over, "Wand up, come on, Lyds, we can get out of this," 

Lydia nodded, "Yeah..." She whispered back, _"Expelliarmus,"_ She raised wand "Yeah. I've got it," 

There was one cry of  _"Avada Kedavra!"_ and two cries of  _"Expelliarmus!"_

In months to come, Lydia would forget most of what happened that night. All she could remember was seeing the figures of people she thought she might have known and then the sound of Harry shouting, " _Accio Portkey,"_  and suddenly being back on the Quidditch pitch. The sounds of cheers at a Hogwarts victor were quickly replaced with the sounds of screaming when they realised what had happened. 

Dumbledore was suddenly at their shoulders and Lydia gripped onto Cedric's arm, sobbing. 

"He's back!" Harry yelled at Dumbledore, "Voldemort is back!" 

 

**_YEAR 5_ **

Lydia was trying to stay as calm as possible but it really wasn't going very well. Harry had left for his hearing that morning and the fact that he wasn't back yet was panicking her. She still felt ridiculously guilty for the fact she hadn't gone on that walk with Harry the night that the Dementors attacked. At least then he wouldn't have to deal with it alone. Hermione told her that she was being ridiculous for feeling so guilt but Ginny did say that she understood where she was coming from. In the end, Lydia couldn't deal with Hermione muttering about their upcoming OWL exams and went to see what Fred, George and Ron were up to. 

"Have you stopped panicking yet?" George asked. 

"No," Lydia said, dropping onto the bed next to him, "I'll stop panicking when I die," 

"I love Slytherins and their optimism," Fred sighed. 

The day passed slowly. Leaving Lydia to not do much but watch Ron beat everyone at Wizards chess and wonder why on earth she chose to take Arithmancy whilst struggling through her essay. It was at times like this when she had wished she chose Divination instead because at least then she could do what Harry and Ron did and make up everything they wrote in their essays. At least she had Hermione to copy off. 

At around midday, the doorbell rang and Mrs Weasley shouted, "Harrys back!" Before the others had even registered what had been said, Lydia vaulted over the bed and bounded down the stairs. She didn't care that she had awoken the portait of Mrs Black who was now screaming so loudly that the very walls of the house were vibrating. Not being able to contain herself, Lydia reached out and grabbed the back of Harry's jacket so forcefully that he turned around and looked quite ready to punch her. 

"Well?" She asked. 

"Cleared of all charges," 

Lydia's screams of delight mixed with Mrs Blacks screams of horror as she launched herself at her brother, wrapping her arms around his neck. He staggered backwards and awkwardly patted her back. 

"I'm very happy and all but I can't actually breathe," Harry gasped. 

"Sorry!" She said, backing away but then she started screaming again. 

Fred, George and Ginny burst into the room. "HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OF! HE GOT OFF!" They chanted, jumping around the room. Mrs Weasley tried to shush them but they were paying no attention and carried on dancing around them. Sirius came into the kitchen moments later and made a great show of shaking Harry's hand, though Lydia thought there was something insincere in the way that he was doing it. 

That day, their Hogwarts letters came that day. Lydia had barely opened hers before Hermione screamed causing Lydia to fall off her bed and jump back up, her wand drawn. She looked around, expecting to see a death eater but Hermione was just stood on her bed, holding her letter.

"What is wrong with you?" Lydia asked, holding a hand to her heart.

"I've been made prefect!"

"Oh," Lydia said, dropping her wand back onto her bed. "And you're surprised....because?"

"Oh, shut up!" Hermione said though she was grinning.

Lydia snorted and opened her own letter. Something fell onto her lap and she looked down, screaming herself for it was a small green badge with a silver serpent curling around the letter 'P'.

"I'VE BEEN MADE PREFECT!" Lydia yelled, "HERMIONE! I'VE BEEN MADE PREFECT!"

Hermione looked at her and they both screamed again, jumping up and down and holding their badges above their heads like Harry did when he caught the Golden Snitch. The door banged open and Fred and George walked in, looking slightly pissed off. 

"What in the name of Merlin are you screaming about?" Fred asked. 

"Prefect! I'm a prefect!" Lydia screamed, jumping up and down again and waving her badge in George's face, "I'm a prefect!" 

"Oh no...my girlfriend...is a _Slytherin and a prefect_ ," George whispered, looking as though he had just been told his childhood best friend had died. "This is not how I though my life would turn out," He then brightened up and kissed her, "I'm very happy for you though. I mean, that's one less person who's going to try and give me detention," 

"She's not going to abuse her power as prefect!" Hermione said crossly. 

Lydia quickly looked away from Fred and George and busied herself its opening the rest of the letter whilst Hermione tutted behind her. Harry and Ron wandered in moments later and Hermione screamed again. Harry was holding a prefect badge and Hermione ran over to him, hugging him. 

"Oh, Harry!" She yelled, "I knew it would be you!" 

"It's not me," Hary said gruffly, "It's Ron," 

"Ron?" Hermione asked quietly. 

Lydia clapped her hand over her mouth and moved to hide behind Fred and George. This was very clearly turning into a very awkward moment. She peered over Fred's journey just as Hermione was turning bright red and Ron's ears were steadily turning red. Harry was staring between the two of them. 

"Yeah!" He said defensively, "Why wouldn't it be me?" 

"I mean - no - I thought - no -Ron, this is amazing!" She said, forcing a smile onto her face. "Well done!"

George sighed loudly. 

"I definitley should have asked the other Potter to the Yule Ball...I mean, he's a Gryffindor and not a prefect," 

Harry turned bright red and looked away, which Lydia thought strange but then his head snapped up. 

"Wait - Lydia's Slytherin prefect?" He asked, genuinely sounding shocked. 

In response, Lydia held the badge up again. 

"Dumbledore's gone mad in his old age," Lydia said, "It's the only explanation," 

All attention soon turned to Ron when Mrs Weasley came into the room and realised that Ron had became Prefect. 

\---

"Harry? Lydia?" Mr Weasley popped his head into the room, "Professor Dumbledore is here to see you," 

"He's taking away your prefect badge already," Fred said. 

"Probably," Lydia said, standing up, "I'd take it away too," 

Lydia expected to follow Mr Weasley into the kitchen but instead he lead them to one of the living rooms in Grimmauld Place. She thought that he was acting strange, though that could have just been because he was very tired. One things that Lydia always noticed about the members of the Order of the Phoenix was that they never looked as though they had had a full nights sleep. 

Professor Dumbledore was stood outside the door of the living room with his hands clasped in front of him. He looked unusually serious though the usual twinkle was still there. He smiled pleasantly at them both and Lydia had to remind herself to smile back for a sense of foreboding settled over her. Harry was tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt in the way that he did when he was nervous. 

"Now, what you are going to see behind this door might upset you, it might even scare you," He said grimly, "But please understand me when I say this - there is no dark magic at play here and even if you want to attack, please do not," 

Lydia and Harry glanced at each other and automatically moved closer together, expecting the worse. Dumbledore waved his hand and the door opened on its own accord. Together, Harry and Lydia leaned forward slightly. At first, Lydia was very, very confused for Harry was stood both next to her and in the room between Sirius and Lupin. Then she looked a little closer and realised that this person could not be Harry because his eyes were hazel, he looked a little bit older and there was no scar on his head. 

Harry cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowed. He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something but then closed it again. He turned and looked at Lydia as though he was expecting her to say something. She looked at Remus and Sirius both of whom looked like they were torn between laughing and crying. Finally, she turned to look at Dumbledore who was looking very solemn. 

"I don't get it," Lydia said loudly. 

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat. 

"This is James Potter, your father,"

"No he's not," Lydia said, "Our dad is dead. There was a whole thing about it," She gestured to the scar on her head. 

"That is true," Dumbledore said, nodding his head, "However, certain magic has come into play," 

"I thought there was no spell to bring back the dead," Harry interrupted, "That's what you said to us last year," 

Lydia turned and looked at the man who was claiming to be her father. She couldn't help but distrust him. It was a cruel thing to do, really, pretend to be orphaned children's father. Especially after everything that they had been through the previous summer. He smiled at her but she didn't return the smile and quickly looked away. 

"There is no spell to bring back the dead, Harry, you are correct," Dumbleore said, "However, there is old, ancient magic that has not been brought into play for hundreds of thousands of years," He glanced around, "Perhaps we should sit down whilst I have this conversation. It is _very_ confusing," 

Lydia thought that if even Dumbledore found it confusing, there was probably no point in him even trying to explain it to the rest of them. Dumbledore lead the way into the living room and Lydia and Harry sat on the couch furthest away from 'James' who was now looking very uncomfortable. 

"Last summer, when Lord Voldemort returned from the dead, he murdered Cedric Diggory. When you two duelled Lord Voldemort, you were faced with the echoes of those he killed. Cedric Diggory being one of those people and, from what you have told me, he asked you to bring his body back to his parents and that is what you did-" Harry opened his mouth to interrupt but Dumbledore waved him down, "-in doing so, you did a good deed. A deed that others might have ignored given the circumstances, and so you were rewarded. A male soul, for a male soul," 

"That makes no sense!" Lydia protested, "That means that he should have come back after Quirrel died!" 

"No, no," Dumbledore said gently, "You misunderstand me. Both your father and Cedric were innocent. Professor Quirrel was not. You could not save Cedric Diggory - no one in that situation could have done - but you avenged his death in the best way that you could and so you were rewarded. Do you understand?" 

"A little bit," Lydia said. 

"That is enough," Dumbledore said. 

"So," Harry said, speaking for the first time, "That man there...that's our dad?" 

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "I shall leave you to bond. I need to go to the Minstry and explain this," 

Once Dumbledore left the room, silence fell. 'James' was staring intently at Lydia and Harry whilst Remus and Sirius were determinedly looking away from each other. Harry jumped up and walked to the window, looking out of it. Lydia stared at her hands, trying to think of something to say. She had always imagined having parents, but now that she had one, she didn't actually know what to do with herself. 

"Are you two okay?" Remus asked, "I know this is a lot for you to take in-"

"Understatement," Lydia muttered. 

"-but it's best if we just talk about it," 

"I know it's a lot for you two," James said quietly, "But it's a lot for me, too. The last time I saw you both you were babies and now you're teenagers,"

Before she knew it, Lydia burst into tears. Harry raced back over to her and sat on the couch next to her and put his arm around her. That only reminded her of the fact that they had missed out on so much together. Lydia could think of a million different times in her life when all she needed was a parents advice. The sorting ceremony, for example, would have been a nice time to have gotten advice of someone who had already been through it. 

"It's alright," Harry whispered, "We'll get through this together. We always do," 

Lydia nodded and wiped her eyes. She tried to pull herself back together and faced James again. There were tears rolling down his own face. Remus was leaning over the back of the couch, his hands interlocked. Sirius was leaning back against the wall, his arms folded. Harry was jigging his knee up and down. 

"I'm sorry..." James whispered, "I'm sorry that I was never there for you. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave you to fend for yourself and not have any idea of what the Wizarding world was like...I didn't want your lives to be like this," 

"I know," Harry said, "We both know. We didn't want you to die and..and-" His voice wavered an then he burst into tears which only made Lydia cry even harder. Remus placed his hand on Lydia's shoulder and squeezed it in a way that was strangely comforting. 

"You've both been through a lot," Remus said, "I know this. Sirius knows this. James...will come to know this," He cleared his throat, "But this is a good thing in your lives. For the first time, I think you've both found something good,"

"You're right," Lydia whispered, "This is something good," Lydia looked up at James and smiled at him. She saw him physically relax at this

"This is definitley one of the better things that has ever happened to us," Harry said thickly through tears. 

James tentaviely walked towards them and before they knew what was happening, the three of them were sobbing in each other's arms. Behind them, Lydia heard Sirius and Remus let out sighs of relief. 

"So," James said, finally pulling away, "Lydia, you're in Slytherin," 

"No, I just like to wear this Slytherin jumper for the fun of it," 

"That's me told," He muttered. 

\---

Lydia sat in a stony silence as Harry ranted at Professor Dumbledore, walking around his office and smashing things. James sat next to her with his arm around her. He hadn't really shown any emotion since they had watched Sirius fall backwards through the veil, though that could have been more to do with shock than anything else. He didn't even try and control his son as he swore at the Headmaster. The portraits that hung around the office were the only ones who seemed to be reacting to anything. 

She had had too hard of a year to care about anything anymore. Between Professor Umbridge, those awful quills, half the school thinking she was mad, the DA and now Sirius dying, nothing effected her. She felt as though she had been sucked dry of any emotion that she could have possibly felt. 

Harry finally fell silent and Lydia saw this as her chance to get everything across to Dumbledore. 

"I want out," she said, "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't care about Voldemort. I want to be a normal kid,"

"Lydia-" Dumbledore began. 

"No. I don't care. I really do not give a shit. Don't tell me about the power of love or some other bullshit because that's gotten me no where!" she napped, "I just want to be normal. I want to go to class and watch Quidditch games and not have to worry about anything else. I don't care about Voldemort anymore."

"Lyds...come on.." James said quietly. 

"No, dad, no! You have no idea what it's been like for us! Between getting sorted into Slytherin, killing a Basilisk and thinking there was a mass murderer after us for a whole year, I'm done! I don't want special treatment! I don't want to be part of the Prophecy! I don't care about my fucking 'destiny'! I'll change my destiny! I'll off myself if I have to! I just don't want to be part of this anymore! I don't want to have meetings with you, I don't want to be a part of the Order! I don't want any of this! I just want to graduate Hogwarts and start again! I'll never cast another spell in my life if I have to! I'm not doing this bullshit anymore. I'm done," 

Dumbledore regarded her for a moment and Lydia geared herself up for another argument but in the end he just nodded. 

"If that is your wish..." 

"It is," she said bluntly. 

"Then I shall keep that in mind for next year," 

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. 

"Good,"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter! Done! 
> 
> This took a lot longer to write than I thought it was going to, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Please excuse any mistakes, I tried to edit the best I can but its very late at night in my corner of the world!
> 
> Comments are appreciated!
> 
> -E.


	2. A Lone Birthday

_The flash of a curse blinded Lydia for a moment and she stumbled backwards, knocking into Harry. He grabbed onto her arm as they both tumbled down the uneven platform on which the veil stood. Bellatrix advanced on them and raised her wand faster than either of them could ever dream of doing._

_"Crucio!" She yelled gleefully._

_The curse hit Lydia in the chest and she rolled away from Harry, screaming as every bone in her body was set on fire. Harry cursed and ran towards Bellatrix but she was a skilled witch and seemed to have been able to predict his next move._

_"Depulso!" She cackled and Harry was blown off his feet. He landed next to Lydia who couldn't quite catch her breath and was just waiting for it to be over._

_"Cru-"_

_"NO!" James yelled. He ran out from behind them, his wand held up. "Expe-"_

_Lucius Malfoy appeared next to James and cast a spell that Lydia didn't recognise; purple light engulfed his entire body and he became limp, slumping to the floor. Lydia screamed again and pushed herself up off the floor and dived towards him. Her hand closed around his wrist and she felt the steady beat of his pulse._

_Furious, Lydia's hand scrambled to her wand and she picked it up. Lucius Malfoy hadn't even realised that she was there until her stunning spell hit him and he disappeared from sight. Lydia heard Bellatrix's distinct cackle again and looked up just as she began to advance on her, her wand raised high. Someone threw themselves in front of her and for a moment, Lydia didn't recognise them, but then she saw a look of shock creep onto Sirius' face as he slowly fell backwards into the veil and -_

"NOOO!"

Lydia gasped and woke up, her heart beating out of control. Her bedroom door burst open revealing Harry, his wand outstretched. When he saw that it was just her in the room, he visibly calmed down and shoved his wand back into his jeans. He flicked her bedroom light on and awkwardly perched at the end of her bed.

"Nightmare?" He asked.

"Nothing new," She muttered, "Just the usual,"

He nodded knowingly and stood up again, stretching.

"It's nearly eleven. Dumbledore will be here soon," He glanced around the room and his shoulders sagged, "You actually packed,"

"Yes," She said, "And you should have done as well. We've known he was coming since last week,"

Harry had received a letter of Professor Dumbledore and had become quite obsessed. He constantly read and re-read it until the once tightly rolled scroll lay flat. Lydia paid it no attention. She had no wish to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts or be swept away in one of his ridiculous plans. Harry, on the other hand, was determined to avenge their godfathers death and was prepared to do anything to achieve that goal.

Since the Ministry, Lydia and Harry's relationship had been quite strained. Lydia was quite sure that if they weren't stuck at the Dursleys together, they probably wouldn't speak for their outlooks on life were very different. Harry was prepared to lead a life of danger and adventure whilst Lydia wanted nothing more than to have a normal life as was humanly possible.

All the lights in Privet Drive suddenly went out and Lydia jumped, her hand already on her wand but Harry shook his head. There was a knock on the door and she heard Uncle Vernon yell, "WHO'S KNOCKING THIS LATE AT NIGHT?" followed b Albus Dumbledore quite pleasantly saying, "I see Harry did not tell you that I would be arriving today,"

"Seriously?" Lydia hissed at Harry, "You didn't tell them?"

"I forgot!" He said.

She clenched her jaw and jumped out of bed, pulling a pair of jeans on over her pyjama shorts. As she snatched one of Mrs Weasley's knitted jumpers off her desk, she shoved Harry towards his room.

"Pack!" She snapped.

Downstairs, Dumbledore was stood in the hallway with the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia was stood in the doorway of the living room with her hands covering her mouth and Dudley cowering someone behind her. Uncle Vernon was steadily turning a quite dangerous shade of red and Dumbledore, apparently oblivious to how unwelcome he actually was, stood and smiled at them pleasantly.

“Ah, Lydia, lovely to see you,”

“You too, Professor,” She said with as much politeness as she could muster.

“Now, Lydia, I remember what you said at the end of last term and I am happy to send you to your fathers apartment now, if that is-”

“Her father is dead,” Aunt Petunia snapped, “To suggest otherwise is an outrage,”

Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and looked from Aunt Petunia to Lydia. “Ah,” He said “I see you didn't tell them,”

“It never came up in conversation,” Lydia said stiffly.

“Quite understandable,” He said, “If you would like to get your trunk, anyway, I have organised a Portkey for you. I will sort this slight hiccup out,”

Lydia ran upstairs and grabbed her trunk, glancing around her room o make sure she had everything. Before she went back downstairs, she popped her head into Harry’s room. He was still trying to pack his trunk and was now balancing two pairs of trainers, a telescope and what looked like every potion ingredient he had ever owned in his arm.

“Do you want me to take Hedwig?” She asked.

“Please, if you don't mind...”

“Well, I wouldn't ask if I didn't mean it,” She said more harshly than she wanted to

He frowned at her, “Wha-”

“I'm going to dads now,” She said quickly, calling Hedwig down from the top of the wardrobe and carefully placing her in her cage. “See you later,”

“Yeah. Bye,” He said, still frowning.

Lydia put Hedwig's cage under her arm and picked her trunk back up, dragging it down the stairs.The Dursleys and Dumbledore were al still stood in the hallway. Dumbledore was quietly singing what sounded like the Hogwarts school song to himself. Uncle Vernon was now so red that he would have probably blended in with a field of poppies.

“Are you ready?” Dumbledore asked.

Lydia nodded and glanced at the Dursleys. Dudley looked like he was on the verge of collapse. Dumbledore produced a broken mug from the depths of his robes and handed it to her just as it began to glow. Aunt Petunia actually screamed at the sight of it and she was sure she heard Dudley begin to cry.

“I’ll see you at the start of term feast,” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling.

Lydia smiled at him just as she felt the familiar jerk around her navel and the floor vanished from beneath her feet. For a moment, she felt as though she was falling through the air but then she crashed onto hard floor and there was the sound of glass smashing behind her and someone swearing.

“Oh, Merlin,” Someone muttered, pulling her up.

For a moment, she was quite disoriented and then her eyes focused on the person stood before her.

“Dad!” She exclaimed, flinging herself at him.

“It's nice to know you missed me,” He muttered, “How are my lovely in-laws?”

“Discovered you're a lie about 5 minutes ago, so I imagine quite confused,” Lydia shrugged, “How are you?”

“Dealing with everyone in the best way I can, but it's OK. I have Remus staying with me. There was a full moon last night though which-”

“-wasn't fun for anyone,” came the mellow voice of Remus Lupin. He limped into the kitchen, lookin as though he hadn't slept for years, “I would hug you, Lydia, but I feel like every bone in my body might break if I do,”

“It really wasn't fun,” James said shuddering, “Prongs nearly lost a prong. Can you imagine if I'd have had to live the rest of my life as ‘Prong’,”

“It's a conversation starter,” Lydia shrugged.

“Except no one can know I'm an animagus but of the illegality of the whole thing,” James pointed out, “Although, I do feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders now that McGonagall knows. Just goes to show that I was the best transiguration student she ever taught,”

Lupin stared at him for a moment.

“Remember when you transfigured Sirius into half a toilet,”

“That was a fine bit of magic,”

“You were meant to be turning a pig into a desk,”

“Loads of people have done that. I bet Lydia has,”

“I once disintegrated a whole row of desks in potions,” Lydia shrugged, “I got detention for a month,”

“How did you even-” James said.

“Full disclosure, I did it on purpose so that Hermione could steal potions so we could brew an illegal polyjuice potion,” Lydia said, “I mean, I was only meant to disintegrate mine and Harry’s desk but I messed up messing up,”

“Is this your way of telling me that you're probably going to fail your potions OWL?”

“Just don't be disappointed,”

James showed her to her room. It was spacious and had a lot of natural light. James had even got as far as painting the wall that the bed was pushed against Slytherin colours and the bedding was all green and silver. Lydia thought that he had probably found that more painful than almost loosing a prong.

He had gone one step further and covered the far wall in pictures of her time at Hogwarts. She dropped her trunk on her bed and let Hedwig out of her cage and walked over to it, peering closer at it. She hadn't even seen some of these pictures before; there was one of her and George having a furious snowball fight the previous January on the Quidditch Pitch, one of her and Hermione emerging from under the invisibility cloak and scaring Ron, one of her, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on the edge of the lake on a bright sunny day in fourth year and one of the Dumbledore's Army. There was even one of her and Luna when they turned up to a DA meeting with the exact same hairstyle of keeping their wands in their hair and Ron stood behind them crying with laughter.

“Where did you even get these?” Lydia asked.

“I had to write to a lot of people,” James shrugged, “I figured you probably didn't have many pictures. This one is my favourite though,” He pointed to a picture of Harry and Lydia in their second year that Colin Creevey had taken. “Neither of you look like you want to be there,”

“Second year was a strange one,” Lydia said, “Everyone thought we were evil. Though they were a lot more forgiving of Harry,”

“How are you two, by the way? Are you...dealing?” James asked carefully.

Like the true Slytherin she was, Lydia was able to hide her true feelings and dance around the subject without anyone realising.

“We’re fine,” Lydia lied, “Harry managed to forget to tell the Dursleys that Dumbledore was coming to pick him up,”

“I bet that went down well,”

Lydia changed the subject to the new school year before James realised that she hadn't actually told him anything. James started talking about his OWL results and how he felt like he probably should have done better in potions. Lupin said that he felt like probably should have done worse in potions. Lydia was trying not to think about her OWL results, fifth year was quite possibly the worst school year of her life all thanks to Dolores Umbridge and the constant state of worry that she was in due to the fact that she worried that Harry was being possessed by Lord Voldemort. Whenever she thought back to those Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, the scars on the back of her hand began to tingle and the words, ‘I must not tell lies’ seemed to show up stronger.

“Are you OK?” Lupin asked, frowning at her.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Lydia said quickly, “I'm just remembering how I mixed up two runes,”

“You’ll be fine,” James said, putting his arm around her, “If Moony can pass potions, anything is possible,”

The next morning, James woke her by banging on her bedroom and shouting about Hogwarts letters. At first, she just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep - the longer she had been at Hogwarts, the less exciting the Hogwarts letters became. They were just boring lists about books she would probably pretend to read for a year, but then she remembered it was her OWL results and she scrambled out of bed.

James was stood at the kitchen table holding the envelope and looking like he was on the verge of tears.

“Ready?” He asked, throwing them to her.

“Not at all,” Lydia admitted, catching them.

With shaking hands, she slowly opened the envelope and took out the piece of parchment that had her grades on and read:

 _Ancient Runes - O_  
Arithmancy - E  
Astrology - E  
Care of Magical Creatures - E  
Charms - E  
Defence Against the Dark Arts - O  
Herbology - E  
History of Magic - E  
Potions - A  
Transfiguration - E

“You are clever!” James said, hugging her, “you need to have more confidence in yourself!”

Lydia stared at her results in shock. She had been expecting to fail everything but Ancient Runes and Defence Against the Darks Arts. Her heart swelled with pride at the sight of the small black ‘E’ next to Transfiguration. She had tried her best in the previous years lessons when she covered she was actually quite good at it and it had gone in her favour! Lupin came up behind her and peered at her results. He clapped her on the back and laughed quietly.

“Well, I could have predicted your Defence Against the Dark Arts result in third year,” He said, “I don't know why you're so surprised,”

“I passed potions and everything!” She exclaimed.

“Are you going to take it again this year?” James asked.

“Merlin, no. I never want to see Snape again,” Lydia said, “I don't think he takes students on unless they have an O anyway,”

“He's your head of house, I think you'll see him,” Lupin pointed out.

“No he's not,” Lydia said dismissively, “McGonagall adopted me in first year, I just don't think she's aware of that fact,”

\---

Life at James’ apartment was better than Lydia could have ever imagined. He lived in a mainly muggle suburb, but the entire place was coated in protective enchantments to the point where Lydia wasn't sure if the neighbours actually knew they existed. Hedwig flew in and out of Lydia’s open bedroom window, carrying letters to and from Hermione and George. Harry hadn't written to her once and Lydia felt that it might have been because of the slight argument that they had had before she left. The problem with the two of them was the fact that they were both awfully stubborn and would never give in first.

Before Lydia knew it, her birthday had rolled around. She woke up on the day of her sixteenth birthday and she realised that this would be the first time Lydia and Harry would celebrate their birthdays separately. At once, she jumped out of bed and dived at her trunk. She yanked it open and began to pull things out of it until she found the thing she was looking for; when she had last visited Hogsmeade, Lydia had accidentally stumbled across something that was perfect for him.

In the Quidditch shop, Lydia had found a small leather bracelet with a small Golden Snitch on it. If he tapped it with his wand, it would growth it's full size and fly around him which she thought would be great for Quidditch practice or when he got bored. She didn't think he was a bracelet bloke, but he was now. She pulled a piece of parchment out of the bottom of her trunk and wrote the best birthday note she could.

“ _To Harry,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_If you hate this, I'm really sorry but I’ve never claimed to be a perfect sister. It’s made more fun when you tap it with your wand, though, but be careful not to lose it._

_See you soon!_

_Love,  
Lydia,”_

Lydia read it over and over again, making sure that it didn't sound as cold as she thought it would. Sighing, she rolled the parchment up, tied it up with a rogue shoelace she found at the bottom of her trunk and called Hedwig down from the top of her wardrobe. Hedwig hooted at her and gracefully flew down to her, obediently holding out her leg out.

“Take this to Harry, alright?” Lydia said, “I assume he’s at The Burrow now with Ron and Hermione,”

She nibbled Lydia’s hand affectionately and took flight out of the window. Lydia stood up and stretched, throwing everything back into her trunk haphazardly. James was waiting for her in the living room wearing a party hat and holding a badly wrapped present. He broke out into a terrible rendition of Happy Birthday and she could do nothing but stand there awkwardly.

“Thanks for that,” Lydia said.

“I got you a present!” He said, holding it out to her, “It's not much, though” he added hurriedly.

She smiled at him and took it off him. She sat cross legged on the floor and ripped it open. It was a small black box and she opened it eagerly, almost dropping it out of shock of how beautiful it was. It was a delicate golden necklace on which a charm in the shape of a doe hung. The more she looked at it, the more it seemed to glow slightly.

“Thank-you,” she breathed, carefully holding it up, “I love it!”

“I just thought because of your mum and your Patronus...” He trailed off, “I thought it would be nice,”

“It's amazing!”

The rest of the day passed smoothly. Hedwig returned with presents off Hermione, Ron and Harry. Hermione had bought her a really interesting set of books on Ancient Runes, Ron bought her a Holyhead Harpies jumper and Harry had outdone himself by making up a basket of all her favourite things; bottles of Butterbeer, Honeydukes chocolate, a book about spells that they would never be taught in school, a bottle of her favourite perfume that she had accidentally smashed last year and a lovely pair of earrings. At around midday, a large owl flew into her room and Lydia automatically recognised it as Fred and George’s new owl. It dropped two large packages onto her bed, almost knocking her out.

The first package contained a photo album full of pictures of her and George starting at the Yule Ball and running all the way up to just before he and Fred dropped out of school in the most spectacular way possible. The second package was much softer and was a silvery blanket that adjusted to the perfect heat for whoever was wrapped up in it.

“Lyds?” James stuck his head into her bedroom, “Molly wants to know if you want to go to The Burrow for a birthday tea. Everyone's there,”

Lydia considered it for a moment but then shook her head. If by ‘everyone’ he meant the entire Order of the Phoenix and the entire Weasley family, and she was sure that's what he meant, then she couldn't face it, not yet. The last thing she needed was people giving her sad looks because of Sirius and the inevitable counselling session that Hermione was probably tripping over herself to have with her and Harry.

“I would, but I'm really tired,” She said, “Tell her thank-you, though,”

“Are you sure everything is OK? George will be there,”

“Of course everything is fine. I just think I'm a bit burned out - with my OWL results and everything I think I've crashed a bit,” She gave a convincing fake yawn, “I just sent Hermione a letter to sort out a day to meet in Diagon Alley. I've still not been to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,”

He regarded her for a moment but finally smiled.

“Alright,” He said, “Just let me know when she replies, yeah? I want to see that shop,”

Lydia smiled at him and tried to ignore the darkness that seemed to be seeping into her mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter, but I needed something to fill. 
> 
> I have so many ideas for this and I'm genuinely so excited to write it all!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Comments and reviews appreciated! 
> 
> -E.


	3. Weasleys Wizard Wheezes

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes stood out in a line of dismal shops in Diagon Alley. The usually vibrant street looked as though all colour had been sucked out of it. Most shop windows were boarded up or covered in posters of dark witches and wizards who had escaped from Azkaban. Lydia no longer saw the point in these posters - now that Voldemort was openly back, there was no way anyone would be able to bring them in. 

 

Where shoppers used to stop and talk in groups, they hurried past each other, their eyes firmly planted on the ground and wands held tightly in their hands. Lydia's heart sank when she saw the Florence Fortescue's Ice Cream shop was also boarded up. She would never forget how he had helped her and Harry with their History of Magic homework the summer before third year. As if this trip to Diagon Alley was designed to make Lydia feel worse, her eyes fell upon Ollivanders Wand Shop, which was also boarded up after reports of him being kidnapped by Death Eaters. 

 

“Great Merlin!” James exclaimed when they arrived at Weasleys Wizards Wheezes. 

 

It was a sight to behold - it was the brightest shop in the whole place and was the only shop that didn't have posters up about dark wizards. Although, Lydia didn't think she saw a poster with the words ‘You-Know-Poo’ and couldn't bring herself to look any closer. 

 

“Let's go in then,” Remus said, prodding them both forward. 

 

Inside, it was full to the brim. Remus got swept away into the crowd almost immediately and the same person stood on Lydia’s feet on three separate occasions. James kept on tripping over people and was briefly attacked by a ‘joke scarf,’ - the joke being that they tried to strangle whoever put them on. Lydia had never found them particularly funny and still hadn't got over accidentally putting a prototype on the previous Christmas. 

 

The walls were lined with every product that they offered from Skiving Snackboxes to fireworks to joke wands and the Headless Hats that Lydia found both amusing and terrifying. Although he was still slightly disturbed by the scarf, his eyes were alight in a way that told Lydia she would have to be very careful around him for the rest of the summer. 

 

Leaving James to look at the Pygmy Puffs that she was definitely going to buy, Lydia wandered over to a more secluded section that seemed to be full of very giggly girls. She picked up one of the bottles and looked closer at it, wrinkling her nose, they were Love Potions. 

 

“I don't think you need to be looking at Love Potions,” Came Georges voice.

 

She spun around and hugged him. Someone behind her muttered ‘ew’ but she didn't really care. She hadn't anticipated how much she would actually miss him that summer, especially after everything that happened at the Ministry. 

 

“I've missed you,” She said. 

 

“I know, I've missed you! I thought you'd be at mums for your birthday!” He said. 

 

“I was going to go but I didn't feel well,” She explained. Lydia felt as though he could see right through her lie and carried on, “It's amazing here, though! I can't believe you actually pulled it off!” 

 

“Neither can I, actually,” He admitted, looking round. “Where's your dad?” 

 

“He got distracted by the Pygmy Puffs. Not that I blame him,” She added, “They might just be the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life,” 

 

“Who'd have thought that Pygmy Puffs were the way to warm a Slytherins cold dead heart?”

 

“Shut up,” 

 

“I did save you one though, for your birthday,” He grinned, “I knew you'd like them. It's a purple one. Come on, he's in the back,” He took her hand and lead her through the crowd, behind the till and into the back where Fred was, “I’m worried we won't be able to breed them fast enough. They’re one our most popular products. Hang on, I'll be back in a second,”

 

“Hi, Lydia!” Fred said, his arms full of Skiving Snackboxes. “Happy late birthday,” 

 

“Cheers, Fred,” Lydia grinned, “Do you need any help with them?” 

 

“Nah it's fine, I've got them,” He said, “There's a group of Ravenclaw fifth years out there begging for them. Even the cleverest amongst us will fall at OWL year. See you later,” 

 

George reappeared holding a particularly fluffy Pygmy Puff. Lydia carefully took it in her hands and it was so cute, she almost wanted to cry. It looked up at her with big blue eyes and then squeaked, rolling around in her palms. 

 

“I am in love with this weird fluff ball,” She announced, “I might cry,” 

 

“I hope Hedwig will be alright with him. That owl is weirdly territorial,” George said, stroking the top of its head. 

 

“She never comes into my dormitory anyway. She prefers it in Gryffindor tower,” Lydia said and then she gasped, “He needs a name!”

 

“After getting 10 OWLs I'm sure you'll manage to think of one,” He said. He leant towards her and kissed her, “Well done on that, by the way. You did better than me,” 

 

“Not really an achievement is it?” 

 

“Not at all. But look at me now!” 

 

Lydia carefully placed her Pygmy Puff on her shoulder and followed George out of the back room whilst going over every single name that she could think of. Harry had found the name ‘Hedwig’ in a History of Magic book that they had both read once. Lydia felt that her Pygmy Puff needed an entirely different name and one that wasn't so fancy. 

 

“There's Harry, Ron and Hermione!” George said, pointing over at the stairs. Hermione was stood frantically waving at them. James appeared next to them followed by a quite battered looking Remus Lupin. “Hi James! Remus!” 

 

“You got a Pygmy Puff!” James exclaimed. 

 

“Yeah. He's a birthday present,” Lydia beamed.

 

“What's his name?” Remus asked. 

 

“Fabio,” Lydia said promptly. 

 

George burst into laughter and had to hold onto James’ shoulder to stop himself from laughing. James snorted and grabbed Lydia's hand, pulling her towards the stairs. Ron's arm were laden with merchandise and Hermione was jumping up and down like a child on Christmas morning. 

 

“I've missed you!” Hermione shrieked, pulling her in for a hug. 

 

“I've missed you - but watch Fabio!” Lydia said hurriedly, pointing to him. 

 

Harry frowned at her. 

 

“He doesn't look like a Fabio,” 

 

“Some people might not think you look like a Harry,” 

 

“Lydia! Merlin, I thought I was never going to see you again!” Ginny said, coming down the stairs towards her. 

 

“Hey, Gin. How's everything at home?” 

 

“Bill got engaged to Fleur Delacour and now they live at home,” Ron said with a slightly dreamy expression on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Remus. Ginny looked disgusted. 

 

“She's an absolute nigh-”

 

“YOU’RE QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN?” 

 

Lydia jumped backwards onto George’s foot. He swore at the top of his voice and dived forward to catch Fabio who had fallen off Lydia’s shoulder. James was stood with his arms in the air and whooping loudly whilst Harry desperately tried to shush him. Lydia grinned at Harry and he grinned back sheepishly. She knew how much Quidditch meant to him and how excited he probably was about this, though she could have easily predicted that he would be captain once Angelina left. Even Professor Trelawney would have been able to predict that correctly. 

 

“Well done, mate,” She said. 

 

“Thanks,” He grinned, “I wasn't expecting it...” 

 

“You're the only one who wasn't,” Ginny said. 

 

James was still whooping and seemed completely oblivious to the ongoing conversation. Lydia noticed Harry breakaway from the group and look out of the window. Feeling like nothing good could possibly come of this, Lydia sidled over to him and glanced out of the window, automatically seeing what had caught his attention: Draco Malfoy was hurrying up the street alone, glancing over his shoulder. Seconds later, he moved beyond the scope of the window and they lost sight of him. 

 

“Wonder where his mummy is?” Harry said, frowning. 

 

“Wonder where - what?” Lydia asked. 

 

“We saw him before in Madam Malkins with his mum,” Harry said. 

 

“He doesn't have to be with his mum constantly, does he?” Lydia pointed out, though even she didn't quite believe what she was saying; Narcissa Malfoy was as likely to let her precious son out of her sight willingly than Lydia was to marry him. Malfoy must have a made a real effort to get away on his own. 

 

Harry glanced around and Lydia did too, knowing where this going. Ginny and Ron were looking at the Pygmy Puffs whilst Hermione was inspecting the the collection of Muggle magic tricks with Mr Weasley who looked delighted. James and Remus were in fits of laughter on the other side of the shop looking at something and Fred and George were both helping customers. 

 

“Get under here,” muttered Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his back. 

 

“I don't think this is a good idea,” Lydia said, glancing at Mrs Weasley. 

 

“Come on!” He said. Without waiting for an answer, he threw the cloak over the two of them and they hurried towards the door. No one noticed them vanish - Fred and George’s products were all far too distracting. 

 

“He was going in that direction,” murmured Harry, “C’mon,” 

 

Harry had grown so much in the summer that he now had to crouch down so that the cloak covered them both fully, making for a quite uncomfortable journey. They scurried along, glancing left and right through the shop windows at doors but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Lydia was quite thankful of this fact - she was missing Fabio and the longer they were aware, the more chance there was of someone realising they were missing. 

 

“There he is! Look where he's going!” whispered Harry as Malfoy turned left. 

 

“Big surprise,” Lydia muttered for he had just slid into Knockturn Alley and out of sight. 

 

“Quick, we need to follow him,” Harry said, speeding up. 

 

“Our feet might be seen!” Lydia hissed, glancing down at the cloak that was now flapping around their ankles, “If you weren't so damn tall all of a sudden we’d-”

 

“Shh!” He said, “Look where he is!” 

 

They arrived outside Borgin and Burkes. Lydia glanced inside and grimaced. It as full of ancient artefacts that Lydia would happily bet all her money were contaminated with Dark Magic. There, in the midst of it all stood Draco Malfoy with his back to the window. He was moving his hands around a lot and seemed to be talking animatedly. This struck Lydia has very strange - she wasn't sure she had ever seen him talk so eagerly about something in all the time that she had known him. Curiously, a man who Lydia assumed was either Borgin or Burke was stood facing Malfoy and looked quite fearful. 

 

“That's Borgin,” Harry whispered. He shoved his hand in his bag and took out two Extendable Ears and passed one to her. 

 

“....you know how to fix it?” Malfoy asked, as though he was standing right to next to them. 

 

“Possible,” said Borgin in a way that sounded like he wasn't too eager about how everything was going, “I'll need to see it, though. Why can't you bring it in the shop?” 

 

“It has to stay put,” Malfoy said firmly, “You just need to tell me how to do it,” 

 

Borgin shook his head. “I can't do it without seeing it,” 

 

“No?” Malfoy asked sneeringly, “Would this make you more confident?” He moved towards Borgin and was blocked from view by a cabinet. All Lydia and Harry could see was Borgin looking very frightened. 

 

“Tell anyone, and there will be retribution. Do you know Fenrir Greyback? He's going to be checking in to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention,” 

 

“There will be no need for-”

 

“I'll decide that,” Malfoy snapped, “I'd better be off. Keep that one safe. I’ll need it,”

 

“Why don't you take it now?” 

 

“Why would I do that? How would I look carrying that down the street,” and he swept out of the shop. 

 

They stayed silent as Malfoy stalked past them and waited a few minutes before hurrying back up Knockturn Alley. Harry was silent the entire time and Lydia could tell that he as thinking about everything that they had just heard. Lydia thought the entire thing was just a bit strange and probably just Malfoy getting his mum a weird Mother's Day present. She was quite sure that Harry wouldn't think it was anything of the sort. 

 

When they got back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Harry pulled the cloak off them and shoved it back in his bag. Lydia fought her way through the crowd and over to George who was selling pimple vanished to Eloise Midgeon. Fabio was swaying on his shoulder slightly, squeaking. 

 

“Hello, Eloise,” Lydia smiled, reaching up and taking Fabio back. 

 

“Where've you been?” George asked, “Been trying to find you,”

 

Lydia glanced around to make sure that Mrs Weasley wasn't listening and explained what she had just saw with Harry. 

 

“Weren't you the one just saying that you weren't doing, and I quote, ‘of that sneaky shit,’ this year.” George asked her quietly. 

 

“Yes, well, it's very hard when you've got a brother like mine,” She said, “But seriously, once I get back to Hogwarts, I'm just focusing on my school work,” 

 

“Lydia! There you are, dear. It's so lovely to see you!” Mrs Weasley bustled over to her and gave her a hug, “You must come back and spend the rest of the summer with us!” 

 

“I would, Mrs Weasley, but I think I'll spend some time with my dad,” Lydia said. 

 

Mrs Weasley peered closer at her face. 

 

“Are you OK, love?” 

 

“Fine, Mrs Weasley. Just ready to start again at Hogwarts,” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E


	4. Back to Reality

“I have a job!” James announced on the morning of September 1st. Lydia was still half asleep and was much more interested in her porridge.

“A what?” She yawned.

“A job! At Hogwarts!”

Lydia choked on her porridge. “Please don't tell me your teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts,”

“No, I'm taking over from Madam Hooch,” he said, “Dumbledore just sent me an owl!”

“Great, you can annoy Harry for the whole Quidditch season,”

Lydia wasn't sure that she had ever seen her dad so happy then when he came to the realisation that he would be able to badger his son for a full ten months. In fact, she definitely hadn't because they both became so overjoyed at the fact that he was going back to Hogwarts that they didn't realise it was half past ten and Lydia still hadn't finished packing properly. Still, she thought as she sat on top of her trunk to try and make it shut on her telescope, it wouldn't be the first of September if she wasn't running late.

By the time they got to Kings Cross, it was five minutes to eleven and she was having flashbacks to second year and the barrier closing on her.

“You’re going to miss the train!” James yelled over his shoulder. He was carrying her trunk and Hedwig in her cage.

Lydia trailed behind him slightly, holding Fabio close to her chest in an attempt to not make him visible to the Muggles. James threw her trunk on the train and handed her Hedwig's cage. He quickly hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

“Be good. Be careful. See you later,”

“Bye!” She yelled, only just managing to get on before the doors began to shut.

Once she was on the train, she suddenly felt very alone. She had no idea where Harry or any of the others were and she was more than aware of people staring at her. Sighing, she hoisted Fabio onto her shoulder, picked up her trunk and Hedwig and made her way down the train towards the prefects carriage, hoping to bump into a friendly face.

“Hey, Ron,”

He was stood next to the door of the prefect carriage, obviously doing his best to not look horrifically bored. Hermione was sat next to the new Head Boy, listening to what he was saying intently. Lydia felt like his name was Andrew, or maybe Felix.

“Hello,” He said, “Just spouting off the same old shit - don't take points for stupid reasons, don't give detentions for stupid reasons, always turn up to duty on time...he's acting like we’ve not been doing this for a year,”

“Not everyone has,” Lydia pointed out, “I would've thought that Ginny would be made prefect..”

“Nah, causes too much trouble, doesn't she?” He shrugged, “Saying that, you haven't been an angel, have you?”

“And you have?”

“Are you two listening over there?” The Head Boy snapped.

Lydia and Ron both jumped and tried to look as innocent as possible. Ron nodded his head furiously whilst Lydia mock saluted him. He glared at them for a moment before continuing his quite boring lecture about his new Prefect system. Half way through, Lydia yawned and turned her attention to Fabio who was nibbling on her earlobe and wouldn't stop. Ron found the whole thing so amusing that he was turning purple from trying to keep his laughter in.

“Alright, that's it for now.” Andrew/Felix finally said, “the prefect timetable will be on your common room notice board. Make sure you read it and take a copy for yourself,”

“So much fun,” sighed Lydia, stretching.

“Yeah...I'm going to find Harry. You coming?” Ron asked her.

She froze in her tracks.

“Later. I want to see Ernie,” She said, saying the name of the first person she saw.

“Hermione!” Ron called across the carriage, “Are you coming?”

Lydia flattened herself against the wall as people began to file out. Malfoy glared at her when he passed and she tried to return the stare but suddenly faltered. Up close, he looked terrible; his skin looked grey, his usually perfect hair was limp and there were bags under his eyes that made him look twenty years older.

“What are you looking at, Potter?” He sneered.

“Morning, Lydia!” Ernie Macmillan said pompously.

She liked Ernie, she really did, but he was only good in small doses and just that one sentence was her fill until at least December. Still, she smiled at him nevertheless and reminded herself that she'd be able to get away from him at some point.

“How was your summer?” Lydia asked as they set off down the train.

“It was good, it was good. How was yours?” He asked.

“Yeah, no, it was fine. Didn't do much but- hey, we can go in here,” Lydia said, cutting the conversation short. The last thing she wanted to do was get onto the subject of Sirius and she felt like that was where his conversation was going, “Hey Dean, Seamus...”

“All right, Potter?” Seamus grinned. Dean was sat across from him, his legs stretched out across the seat. He looked like he was in a bad mood.

“Anyone else feel like the summers just get shorter and shorter?” Ernie asked, “We went to America, this summer, to visit my...”

Ernie's story about his time in America visiting his aunt took most of the journey. It was on punctured by the trolley lady, a few people sticking their heads in the compartment to say hello and a brief commotion in which two fourth years tried - and failed - to duel. Lydia was quite sure that Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t appreciate two students visiting her this early in the year, but she was actually quite sad to miss her reaction.

Whilst Ernie was indulging in a few too many pumpkin pasties and wasn’t boring them all, Seamus asked if they were doing DA lessons again that year.

“There’s no point really, is there?” She said, “whoever is teaching us this year won’t be nearly as bad as Umbridge,”

“Shame really, I got an E in my Defence owl,” Dean said, speaking up for the first time.

“I'm sure you can keep it up, Dean,” Lydia said, “You were good,”

“Yeah. I'm sure I can,” For some reason, he cast a dark look at Seamus who suddenly looked quite awkward but before Lydia could ask what was up with them, Ernie started to speak again.

“How did we all do in our OWLs?” Ernie asked, which then turned into another long monologue off him and by the time the train pulled up at Hogsmeade station, neither Lydia, Dean or Seamus had managed to get a word in about their exams.

Carefully, Lydia placed a sleeping Fabio onto her shoulder and gave Hedwig some owl treats before following Ernie off the train. She glanced up and down the platform looking for Harry, Ron and Hermione but the crowd of people was so thick that she got swept back up the platform and towards the carriages.

“Luna!” Lydia called, spotting her, “Luna!”

Looking as dreamy as ever, Luna turned around and looked at her with her big pale eyes that made it seem like she could see right through her. Her dirty blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her wand was tucked behind her ear for safe keeping. As always, she had a copy of the Quibbler stuck under her arm.

“Hello, Lydia,” she said, “Who's this?” she pointed at Fabio who seemed to be using her hair as a blanket whilst he slept.

“Oh, this is Fabio. He's a Pygmy Puff,” Lydia said, “George got me him for my birthday,”

“He’s lovely. They've been known to sing on Boxing Day, you know?”

“Oh,” Lydia said, “Right. Well...I look forward to that,”

A carriage pulled up next to them and they climbed in. Seconds later, the carriage door opened again and Ron, Hermione and Neville clambered in. Lydia looked out of the window and frowned, she was expecting Harry to be stood there but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Where's Harry?” Lydia asked.

“I don't know. I thought he was with you,” Hermione said, “He went looking for you when he was invited to see Professor Slughorn,”

“Professor who?” Lydia asked.

“Slughorn,” Neville said, “He's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He said he invited you to have tea with him on the train but they couldn't find you,”

“I was with Dean, Seamus and Ernie,” Lydia said, “I'm not that hard to find,”

“He's probably with Ginny,” Ron said, “that train platform is a nightmare,”

The carriage shuddered to a halt and the doors sprang open. Lydia jumped out and looked around. Harry wasn't getting out of any of the carriages that were stopping behind there on and Ginny had just gotten out of the last one. Hermione looked anxious whilst Lydia could tell that Ron was just thinking about the feast. Luna had already wandered off and Neville was looking at a plant that he had just produced from one of the pockets in his robes.

“I’ll wait for him,” Lydia said to Hermione, “He’ll be here soon,”

“I don't know why we’re worried. He does stupid shit like this all the time,” Ron said, “He’ll turn up in twenty minutes with stories of how he wrestled a troll or something. See you later, Lyds,”

Hermione, Ron and Neville walked up to the castle whilst Lydia turned her back on Hogwarts and watched the rest of the carriages come up the pathway but Harry didn't get out any of them. Even though everything that Ron had said about Harry was true, she couldn't help but imagine every horrible thing that could have happened to him. Bellatrix Lestrange’s evil cackle echoed through her mind whilst the flash of Lord Voldemort's killing curse consumed her as the dark mark hovered in the air over her brothers body.

Fabio squeaked in her ear and rolled down her arm. She only just managed to catch him when the voice of one of her least favourite people reached her ears.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

Lydia looked up into Professor Snape's dark eyes. His greasy hair fell in curtains around his thin pale face and he was wearing the sneer that Lydia most associated with being put in detention. She held Fabio closer to her for fear that he might die of exposure to too much grease.

“I’m waiting for my brother, sir, I haven't seen him since I got on the train,” Lydia replied.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I am going to pick him up from the school gates now,” He said, “So I suggest you make your way into the castle. I'm sure that he can wait until the morning to see you,” He looked down at Fabio, “Also, Potter, I don't believe that you will be able to keep that thing with you,” He looked positively gleeful at the prospect of being able to confiscate something off her, “products from the Weasley’s joke shop are banned,”

Lydia thrust Fabio in his face and Snape actually took a step back.

“Please, Professor, he's just a Pygmy Puff. All he does is roll around, squeak and sleep. He can't do any harm,” Lydia explained before adding, “He’s called Fabio,” as if this would help her case in anyway.

“I do not care for his name, Potter, or what he does. I don't need you bringing any more shame to Slytherin house. Please make your way up to the castle or I shall put you in detention,” He snapped.

“Can I not wait-”

“Go,” He said in his meanest voice and Lydia had no choice but to make her way back up to the castle.

The best thing about being in Slytherin for her was the fact that she was able to push as many of Snape’s buttons as she liked because he would never take points off his own students, no matter how much he disliked her. Still, she thought to herself as she made her way into the Entrance Hall, at least she wouldn't have to see much of him that year. No potions meant no Snape and she felt she would be able to cast a Patronus at the very thought.

The sound of the happy babble of the Great Hall reached her ears and she stopped in her tracks. At the staff table, she could see James sat in between her Ancient Runes Professor, Professor Babbling, and Hagrid. Professor McGonagall was rolling up the piece of parchment that contained the first years names and was ordering Seamus to carry the Sorting Hat out of the hall.

Lydia scanned the Gryffindor table and saw Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat together. For some reason, Lydia hovered at the doors and couldn't bring herself to go and sit with them like she had done for five years. She spotted Malfoy sat at the end of the Slytherin table and hurried over to him, punching him in the arm to get his attention.

“What do you want, Potter? Aren't you sat at the wrong table?” He asked coldly. Crabbe and Goyle laughed.

“I'm not actually sat down, Malfoy,” She replied, “I want the password to the common room,”

“Why?”

“Because I'm a Slytherin and have every right to be in there,” she said, “Why else would I want it?”

“It's not like you to miss the start of term feast,”

“And it's not like you to ask me this many questions. I guess things are changing,” she snapped, “just tell me the password, please.”

“Salazar,”

“Original,” she muttered before rushing out of the Great Hall and down to the kitchens.

It wasn't that she didn't want to go to the start of term feast, because she did. In fact, it was the one thing that she had been thinking of all the summer with the exception of Lord Voldemort coming to kill them all. But when she had saw all the students in the Great Hall, all talking like nothing had happened, like there wasn't a great force of darkness outside wanting them dead, Lydia knew she wouldn't be able to face them without causing a scene. And she was more than done with causing scenes wherever she went.

“Miss Potter! How lovely to see you!”

Lydia was brought out of her thoughts by Dobby the House Elf running over to her. He was wearing a too big jumper that looked like it had been knitted by Mrs Weasley and was still wearing all the hats that Hermione had knitted the previous year. As always, he looked quite mad but Lydia couldn't help but be delighted to see him.

“Hello, Dobby,” she said, “I know you're busy with the feast, but you couldn't give me a food could you?”

“Is Lydia Potter not going to the feast?” He asked.

“No, Dobby..I'm...I'm a bit tired and it always goes on a bit,” she shrugged, “Could you do something for Fabio, as well?” She showed Dobby him and he beamed even brighter at the sight of the sleeping Pygmy Puff, “He’ll eat anything,”

10 minutes later, Doby reappeared with a plate full of food for Lydia, and a small box of leftovers for Fabio. Another house elf handed her some bottles of Pumpkin juice. Lydia repeatedly told them how grateful she was before making her way to the common room and seating herself in her favourite seat by the window looking out in the Black Lake. She sat back in her chair, let Fabio loose on the box of leftovers and got stuck into her pasta, wondering why on earth she had never done this before.

“Oh, Fabio...” She sighed, “I feel like this is going to be a long year,”

He squeaked and rolled off the table after over indulging in potatoes.

The next morning, Lydia was sat at the bottom of the Slytherin table when Snape appeared in front of her. She jumped so violently that she knocked an entire jug of Pumpkin juice in Blaise Zabini’s lap who threatened to “hex her within an inch of her life,”. Lydia felt that this was an overreaction and turned her attention to Snape, expecting the worst.

“You passed all of your exams,” He said, with a hint of surprise in his voice, “And none of them are under the grade expected by your teachers so you can take whatever you wish,”

“I want to do Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology,” Lydia reeled off.

“What about potions?”

“I only got an A, sir, I can't carry on. You said you only took us on if we got-”

“I may have said that, but Professor Slughorn is more than happy to take you on even if you only got an A...he said that he believes in you,” Snape explained.

“Sorry, Professor, I don't quite understand, what's Professor Slughorn got to do with anything?” Lydia asked.

“He's the new potions master. I will be taking Defence Against the Dark arts from now on,”

Lydia stared at him for a second, hoping that this was joke but Professor Snape was never one to crack a joke.

“Yes, anyway, I would like to drop Defence Against the Dark Arts and take potions instead,”

Snape ignored her and tapped her timetable with his wand, handing it to her.

“Although I may not be your teacher anymore, I don't think you'd be able to handle the pressure of a NEWT potions class.” He said, “Off you go,”

Lydia hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and sped off to Ancient Runes, glancing down at her timetable. Her second lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts and she suddenly wished that Umbridge was still teaching them. If Defence classes started going the way that Potions classes used to, Lydia thought that she might have to start the DA up again.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione was already waiting outside the Ancient Runes classroom for her but they didn't have much time to talk because Professor Babbling called them into her classroom and she wasted no time in beginning the lesson. As the bell rang, she gave them two books to read, a fifteen inch essay and two translations.

“...to be completed by Wednesday,”

“Wednesday?” Lydia exclaimed.

“Wednesday,” Babbling repeated.

“....but it's Monday,” Lydia said.

“Quite right, Potter,” Babbling replied, “But you're more than capable. You didn't get an O for nothing,”

“What lesson do we have now?” Lydia asked, holding the books close to her chest.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Hermione replied.

“Hermione, if you're stuck on what to get me for Christmas, just kill me,”

“That's not funny, Lydia,” Hermione said seriously.

“I really wasn't trying to be funny,”

Harry and Ron arrived to Defence Against the Dark Arts just after Lydia and Hermione did. She had only sat through one lesson and her arms were already hurting from the books she was carrying and her head was pounding. She knew that the next hour probably wouldn't help either of these things. And when the classroom door opened revealing Snape, she knew would only feel worse by the time this hour was over.

Indeed, when Lydia had sat down and taken her books out of her bag, she completely switched of from whatever Snape was saying and was trying to ignore the headache. The Wizarding world was an amazing place, it really was, but sometimes all Lydia wanted was two paracetamol and a lie down. The only thing she was aware of was the fact that Snape seemed to have developed a very annoying habit of walking around near Harry and Lydia's desk.

Snape had them divide into pairs and Lydia had no idea what was going on until Ron nudged her and said, “Are you going to try and jinx me or what?” Lydia very quickly glanced at the board and read what Snape had written there. Non-verbal spells seemed like the worst things that she could possibly do with a headache.

After twenty minutes of trying, Lydia had managed to repel Ron's stunning spell with an unspoken Shield charm. Hermione had managed to do the same thing but Snape ignored them both and instead put his time into criticising Harry for being unable to jinx her.

“Move, Granger,” He snapped, “Maybe you would do better at protecting yourself, Potter. Here - let me show you-’

Lydia knew what was going to happen before it did. Snape quickly turned his wand on Harry who did the exact same thing and yelled, ‘Protego!”. His Shield Charm was so strong that Snape was knocked off balance and fell against the desk behind him. Lydia winced as Snape stood up again looking particularly evil.

“Do you remember me telling you were a practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Yes, sir,”

“There's no need to call me ‘sir’, Professor,”

Ron snorted and Lydia clapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling loudly. Hermione gasped and looked between Harry and Snape who were both glaring at each other. Lydia couldn't decide which one looked angrier.

“Detention, Potter, my office, Saturday,”

The bell rang and they hurriedly left the classroom. Ron was still laughing whilst Hermione was giving Harry a lecture. Seeing her chance to get away whilst they were all distracted, Lydia slowly backed away and made her way up to the Arithmancy classroom before anyone could shout her back. She slid down the wall outside Arithmancy, opened one of her Ancient Runes books and began to read it, stifling a yawn.

\---

“Potter!”

Lydia glanced up from where she was sat and narrowed her eyes as Orville Urquhart made his way towards her. He was in the year above her and thought they were both in Slytherin, she wasn't sure he had ever actually had a conversation with him. She was also quite sure that prior to this, he had never actually played on the Quidditch team so could not understand why he was wearing the Captain's badge. She had been expecting someone like Malfoy to be picked for Captain.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

“Don't be so rude about it,” He said, holding his hands up. “No, listen, Vaisey doesn't want to play Quidditch this year-”

“Shame,” she said sarcastically, “I don't know if I can live with that news. I might just have to go and kill myself now,”

He glared at her.

“I'm going out of my way to be nice to you here, Potter,” He growled, “I want to play Quidditch this year,”

“Come again?” She was sure that she had heard him wrong.

“I want you to play Quidditch this year. As a chaser,” He said loudly.

“Fuck off,” she said, pulling her Ancient Runes book back towards her.

He slammed his hand down onto her book and she dropped it on the table. Fabio squeaked in fear and rolled off her lap and hid under her robes. Urquhart sat down opposite reaction and looked at her with what might have been a slight pleading look in his eyes.

“Potter, I'm being serious,” he said, “your dad was a good Quidditch player and as much as it pains me to say it, your brother is the the best seeker in the school. I would bet all my money you're just as good,”

Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes!”

“Who's on the team this year?”

“Me, you and Blaise are Chasers. Crabbe and Goyle are Beaters and Malfoy is still Seeker,” He said quickly, “I found a new keeper this morning too. Edward Fredericks, fourth year. He's not amazing but he's better than Ron Weasley,” When he noticed the look on Lydia's face he quickly backtracked, “I didn't mean it like that! Please, Potter, I'm desperate!”

“I don't know how much attention you pay to anything, Urquhart, but Draco Malfoy and I are not the best of friends. I would also presume that Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle are not my biggest fans, either. That is the sort of team work that would not make the dream work,” she snapped. She was speaking so loudly that the people near them stopped their conversation to listen in, “However, the thought of us having to work in a team has greatly amused me and I'd rather kill myself than not see that happen,”

“So..is that a yes?”

“Yes,”

He grinned at her.

“Practice tomorrow at half seven. Oh - also, I want to keep it a surprise just because I'd love to see your brother have a heart attack on the pitch,”

Before she knew it, Lydia was on her feet and had her and pointed at his throat. The entire common room had fallen silent and were now staring at them. Urquhart actually squealed and backed away from her, fear flashing through his eyes.

“Let me get a few things straight before we do this. First things first, if I hear one bad thing said about my brother or any of my friends, I'll snap all your brooms so fast you won't even realise until you realise they won't fly. Secondly, don't even try and turn me against b brother because it won't work. I'd much sooner score for Gryffindor than Slytherin if any of you start acting up. Got it?”

“I've got the general message, yes.”

“Good, I'll see you tomorrow,”.

She stuck her wand back in her hair, put her books under her arms and scooped Fabio up, marching into her dormitory and being well aware that everyone was talking about her behind her back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Fabio might be becoming my new favourite character and he doesn't even speak. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Do tell me if you did. Or didn't. I don't mind. 
> 
> I am going to be on holiday for a week starting tomorrow so I don't know if I'll be able to update! So if I don't update, know that I haven't completely given up on this I'm just sunbathing somewhere! 
> 
> -E


	5. Prefect Duty

Lydia dragged herself to the common room at half past seven and watched as the Common Room slowly began to empty. Sixth Years were due in potions now, and Lydia was one of the many that wouldn't be taking it. Millicent Bulstrode was sat in the corner of the room with Tracey Davis. Their heads were bent close together and they were whispering whilst glancing over at Lydia who was quite sure that they were talking about her. There were a few other seventh years milling about as well, though most were just bent low over their parchment, writing furiously. 

 

“Potter, your dad's here!” Urquhart called, sticking his head back through the entrance on the way out, “says he wants to talk to you,” 

 

Lydia marked where she was up to in her Arithmancy book and picked Fabio up, placing him on her shoulder. James was awkwardly stood outside the Slytherin common, casting furtive looks at it. He smiled when he saw her but Lydia could tell that something was wrong with him. 

 

“How was your first week back?” James asked. 

 

“Yeah, it was fine,” Lydia shrugged, “Just a lot of work. How was your first week teaching?” 

 

“First years have gotten a lot ruder since the last time I was here,” He said, “One tried to hit me with a broomstick,” 

 

“Was it a Gryffindor?” 

 

“How did you know?” He asked. 

 

“You're all annoying,” Lydia shrugged, “It's the kind of thing Seamus Finnigan would have done in first year. He would probably still do it now, actually,” 

 

“You have a free period right now, right?” He asked. When she nodded he said “Let's go and eat breakfast in my office. I don't have a class right now,” 

 

His office was very cosy. It wasn't as big as most teachers offices but it was one of the more homely one. His desk was pushed back against the wall and was already a complete mess. There were three pictures on it; one of him and Lily, another of him, Sirius, Remus and Peter and one of him with Lydia and Harry from the previous Christmas at Grimmauld Place. There was an unlit fire that was surrounded by big plump couches. If anything, it looked like a tiny version of the Gryffindor common room. 

 

“This is cute,” Lydia said. 

 

“I think I might have taken this decorating business a bit too seriously,” He shrugged, taking Fabio off her shoulder and stroking him. “I think Fabio might be the cutest thing in the entire world,” 

 

“Oh no, he definitely is,” Lydia agreed, “I’m worried I would kill people for him,” She sank into one of the armchairs and automatically felt like she was going to fall asleep. James lay across the couch opposite her and she suddenly felt like she was about to conduct a therapy session for him. 

 

“I was talking to Professor Slughorn earlier,” James said suddenly. 

 

“What's he like? I've not seen him yet,” Lydia said. 

 

“He used to teach me,” James said, “Moony was terrible at potions so I spent most of my lessons trying to stop him from blowing his cauldron up,” 

 

“Something tells me you used to just pretend to help him but actually make it worse,”

 

“You can see right through me,” James sighed, “But that's not the point - Professor Slughorn said he was willing to take you on but you didn't take the chance. Why?” 

 

Lydia shrugged. 

 

“I don't know. Potions was never my strong suit. There's no point in taking a subject I don't like and am terrible at, is there?” 

 

“I know what you mean but I thought you wanted to be an Auror?” 

 

“I did, but...I can't be dealing with any of that, dad. I just want to have a normal job. I don't care what I do, I just want to be as normal as possible,” Lydia said, “And I know it's probably quite hard to be normal considering I'm...well, me....but I want to try as hard as I can to just have a normal life,” 

 

“I understand,” said James softly, “I really do,” He paused for a moment and they watched Fabio roll around on the ground for a while. “There's just one thing I don't understand..why are you so distant all of a sudden? I never see you at meal times and Harry, Ron and Hermione have both said that they've only spoken to you once or twice. Harry's panicking because he thinks he's done something wrong,” 

 

“It's just hard. They’re in Gryffindor and I'm in Slytherin,” Lydia shrugged, “And we all have different timetables. The three of the are in potions right now but-”

 

“Cut the bullshit, Lyds,” James interrupted, “You being in a different house has never made a different before, so why does it now? And you never mentioned how you and Harry barely spoke in the summer. Is that why you didn't want to go to The Burrow on your birthday?” 

 

Lydia clenched her jaw and turned her attention back to Fabio. She hated the fact that Harry, Ron and Hermione had clearly come to James just to talk about her. If they cared so much about the fact they had barely spoken to her, why didn't they come and find her themselves? Why did they think that the best answer would be to talk about her behind her back? And Slytherins were the ones with the reputation of being sly...

 

“I just need time to pull myself together,” Lydia said firmly, “A lot happened last year and I'm trying to deal with it,” the scars on the back of her hand began to tingle again, “Give me until Christmas and I'll be fine,” 

 

She suddenly jumped up and grabbed Fabio off the floor. He squeaked slightly as she dropped him in her pocket. James stood up. 

 

“I'm sorry, Lydia, I didn't mean to-”

 

“I have loads of stuff to do for Arithmancy,” Lydia said, “I’ll see you later,” 

 

“Lydia, wait, I-”

 

But she had already slammed the door behind her and was walking back to the common room through the deserted corridors. She had never been more thankful that most people were in class. People seemed to stare at her more than usual these days and she heard most of them whisper. They wondered if she had been driven mad by what had happened at the Ministry and whether that was the reason why she was never seen with her brother and the other two. The Gryffindors wondered why she never sat at their table anymore and the Slytherins wondered why she still hadn't started sitting with them. 

 

When Lydia got back to the common room, she dropped back down in her usual seat and rested her head on her hand, looking out into the Black Lake. The Giant Squid floated lazily by and Lydia raised her hand and waved at it. It waved back. She sighed as the realisation that she was slowly but surely turning into Hagrid with two magical creatures as her closest friends. And there’s nothing wrong with being Hagrid, Lydia thought to herself, if everyone was a bit more like Hagrid, the world would be chaotic, but it would be the best kind of chaotic. 

 

“Lydia?” A slightly tentative voice asked. 

 

Lydia turned to find Daphne Greengrass one of the girls in her year stood over her. If she had to choose a favourite Slytherin, it would probably be Daphne. She was friends with Pansy Parkinson, but Lydia often felt like this was a grudging friendship. She had kind brown eyes and light brown hair that fell to her shoulders. 

 

“Sorry to interrupt you, but you dropped your Pygmy Puff,” she held out her hands to reveal Fabio fast asleep, “when you came back to the common room, he rolled out of your pocket,” 

 

“Oh, thank-you, Daphne. He does it more often than not,” Lydia took him off her and placed him on the table in front of him.

 

“He’s really sweet. What’s his name?” Daphne asked, sitting down opposite her. 

 

“Fabio,” Lydia replied, “my boyfriend got him me for my birthday,” 

 

Daphne smiled at her. 

 

“That's such a thoughtful present. How is his shop going? I’ve not been yet but I’ve seen so many people with Pygmy Puffs that I feel like I need one,” 

 

“It’s going great! It’s amazing, actually. I think they’re a little low on stock at the moment but I can write to him and get him to reserve you one if you want,” Lydia said, “Do you want a pink or purple one?” 

 

Daphne beamed. “Oh, that would be amazing! Thank-you so much, Lydia! A pink one, please!” Then Pansy Parkinson shouted her over and the smile melted off her face. “Anyway, I’ll see you later,” 

 

The rest of the day passed with very little incident. Lydia went out of her way to avoid Harry, Ron and Hermione. She doubted that Harry and Ron noticed her strange ways of avoiding them, but she was quite sure that Hermione noticed every single time. She didn't see James for the rest of the day, either, which made her feel a lot worse. She felt awful for getting so annoyed with him when all he wanted to do was help, but Lydia just wished that people would leave her alone and stop acting like they knew what was happening in her head. 

 

When the bell rang at the end of the day, Lydia hurried out of Ancient Runes and headed down to the kitchens where Dobby was already waiting for her with food for both her and Fabio. She thanked him again and rushed back to the common room. She sat in her usual seat by the window and began to make her way through her mountain of homework. Professor Snape had set them a particularly gruelling essay on non-verbal spells and Professor McGonagall had done the exact same thing. 

 

When she wrote the final word of her transfiguration essay, Draco Malfoy stormed over to her, looking quite annoyed. Lydia groaned and rolled up her parchment, looking up at him and expecting the worst.

 

“Whatever my brother has done to you, I apologise, he's just a bit of a dick sometimes,” Lydia said quickly, “and whatever Ron or Hermione have done to you, they are also dicks sometimes. It happens,” 

 

“It's not him,” he snapped, “We have perfect duty together and you're late for it,” 

 

Lydia looked down at her watch. “Oh,” she said softly, “I had no idea,” she jumped up and followed him out of the common room preparing herself for what would probably be a quite stressful few hours. They had never had prefect duty together before, and Lydia was quite sure that they were about to find out the reason why. 

 

Fabio crawled out of her pocket and up her arm, settling himself onto her shoulder and rolling around until he was wrapped up in her hair. Lydia had become so obsessed with her new pet that she had stopped putting her hair up just so he had somewhere to get comfortable. Malfoy watched in disgust. 

 

“Do you have to take that thing with you everywhere?” He snapped as they made their way to the charms corridor.

 

“I don’t  _ have  _ to, he just likes to sleep in my pocket,” Lydia said, gently shrugging her shoulders so not to disturb him.

 

He rolled his eyes and they patrolled in silence for a while. The only sounds that reached them were that of the snoring portraits and the occasional squeak from Fabio. Lydia often found herself wishing that someone would be brave enough to break the rules just so they would have something to do.

 

“How are you finding Quidditch?” He asked suddenly. 

 

“Um...fine,” she answered truthfully, “it’s not actually as bad as I thought it was going to be,” 

 

“Have you told your brother?” 

 

“No.”

 

Malfoy sniggered. 

 

“I’d love to see him fall on his perfect arse out of shock,” 

 

Lydia stopped in her tracks. 

 

“On his  _ what _ ?” 

 

Malfoy turned bright red and his eyes were wide with shock. Lydia gaped at him out of schock. 

 

“No, that’s now what I- Potter, don’t - I’m -“ he stumbled over his words. 

 

“Malfoy, are you ga-“

 

“If you tell a soul - I’ll kill - don’t tell - your brother -“ 

 

“I won’t,” Lydia said quickly, “it’s not my secret to tell,” 

 

Malfoy gave her a look of contempt and stalked off, his robes billowing around him. Lydia stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, staring after him. She only moved again when she saw some second years try (and fail) to sneak past her. 

 

—-

 

September slowly wore on and the bags under Lydia’s eyes only got deeper. Between prefect duty, Quidditch practice and all the homework she had to do, Lydia barely had time to sleep or even eat. Avoiding everyone became a lot more easier for the main reason that she didn’t have time to do much but sit in the library or go to practice. The only time she ever saw Harry, Ron or Hermione was during lesson times and the work had become so much harder that they barely spoke.

 

She had only spoken to James once or twice after she had stormed out of his office and neither of them had brought up the argument. He wasn’t the only teacher who seemed worried about her either because Professor McGonagall held her back after one Transfiguration lesson. When Lydia walked up to her desk, she was met with a very stern look that Lydia usually associated with getting in trouble for something stupid. 

 

“How are you finding your lessons, Potter?” 

 

“Fine, Professor. Yeah, no, I’m doing okay in everything,” Lydia replied.

 

Professor McGonagall shuffled through all the paper on her desk and nodded.

 

“Well, you’re doing more than ‘okay’ in Transfiguration,” She said, “What about outside of class? I never see you at the Gryffindor table anymore. You have friends, don’t you?” 

 

Lydia felt as though she was eleven years old again. She had already had this friends conversation with Professor McGonagall back in her first year. 

 

“Yes, Professor,” Lydia said.

 

McGonagall regarded her for a moment. 

 

“Forgive me for saying this, but I never see you with anyone anymore,” 

 

“I’m just trying to deal with everything, Professor,” 

 

“Well, there’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon. Perhaps you would like to tell George Weasley about it. It would do you good to get out the castle,” 

 

Another person who she had taken to avoiding was Draco Malfoy. He never turned up to their prefect duty together and made of point of not flying near her during Quidditch practice. Whenever she did see him, and she tried not to, he was always with Pansy Parkinson. Lydia had never thought that Draco liked Pansy as much as she liked him, and now she was quite sure of it. Still, that didn’t stop him for laying his head on her lap and allowing her to play with his hair or sitting with his arm around her. It made Lydia feel slightly sick. 

 

“Lyds!” 

 

Lydia turned around on her way to the library as Harry jogged over to her, panting slightly. He held something out to her. 

 

“This is a letter for you,” He panted, “Hedwig delivered it to me but I think it’s because she couldn’t find you. It’s off George,” 

 

“Oh, cheers,” Lydia said. He smiled at quickly and began to walk away. “Wait - H!” 

 

He turned back around. “Yeah?” 

 

She was going to invite him to meet her in Hogsmeade in October but something stopped her. 

 

“Just...hope your Quidditch captaining is going alright...” 

 

He furrowed his brows slightly. 

 

“See you later,” 

 

Instead of going up to the library, Lydia made her way up to the owlery and opened George’s letter: 

 

_ Send me the date of the next Hogsmeade weekend and I’ll meet you there. _

 

Lydia fished around in her bag for a piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled back a reply: 

 

_ October 12th. I’ll meet you at the top of the path that goes to school at half past 12. Do try not to be late, it’s already quite cold up here.  _

 

Hedwig hooted at her and landed in front of her. Lydia tied the note to her leg and carried her to the window, stroking her head. 

 

“It’s for George,” she said. 

 

Hedwig hooted at her again and then she was gone. Lydia watched her fly until she was out of sight. The door of the owlery banged open and she looked over her shoulder as Ginny and Luna walked in. As always, Luna looked as though she had walked in by accident. 

 

“Hey, Lydia,” Ginny said, calling an owl down. “Did you hear about Hannah Abbott’s mum?” 

 

Lydia shuddered involuntarily. Hannah’s mother had been found dead with the Dark Mark hovering over her body. Hannah had been called out of Herbology to be told and hadn’t been seen since.

 

“Yeah. I was in Herbology with her when they told her. It’s awful, isn’t it?” 

 

“Terrible. But I feel like it’s something we’re going to have to get used to,” she sighed but then brightened up, “but guess what? I’m one of the new chasers on the Gryffindor team!”

 

Lydia’s heart skipped slightly. Ginny was a very good Quidditch player and Lydia didn’t like her chances against her.

 

“That’s amazing, Ginny!” Lydia said, “I’ve always thought you should be on the team,” 

 

“You know the more you play Quidditch, the more Nargles you attract?” Luna said suddenly. 

 

Lydia saw that as her cue to go back to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still on holiday but I managed to find WiFi! Hopefully I will be able to update as normal. 
> 
> Hope you’re still enjoying this so far. 
> 
> -E


	6. Hogsmeade

September bled into October in a blur of Quidditch, homework and Fabio developing an annoying habit of rolling around the common room. It was a relief when the twelfth of October finally rolled around and Lydia could go to Hogsmeade. She placed Fabio on her bed and gave him a very stern talking to. 

 

“If I come back and you’re not on this bed, I’m going to be really disappointed. Not angry. Disappointed,” 

 

He squeaked at her in response.

 

She grabbed a jumper out of her trunk and hurried out of the dormitory. The common room was steadily beginning to empty, only first and second years remained with the odd seventh year who were taking advantage of the quiet common room to get some work done. 

 

In the Entrance Hall, Mr Filch was taking a long time to let people out of the castle. Indeed, when Lydia finally made it to the front of the queue, he held her there for five minutes before deciding that she wasn’t dangerous. Lydia still didn’t understand why it mattered if people were taking things  _ out  _ of the castle. They should be more worried about the weird things people brought in. 

 

George was waiting for her at the top of the path. As popular as ever, people stopped to talk to him as they made their way past him and it was a good half an hour until they could actually make their way into the village. 

 

“Three Broomsticks?” He asked.

 

“Yeah. I have some shopping I need to do as well. I’ve already ran out of parchment and ink,” She sighed.

 

The Three Broomsticks was as packed as ever but they managed to find a table in the corner of the pub. George made his way over to the bar to order whilst Lydia pushed through the crowd to get to her seat. She glanced around the pub to see who was in; Daphne Greengrass was sat with a younger fourth year girl, who Lydia was sure was her sister, Astoria. Ginny and Dean  were sat near them, kissing. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat a little way away and before they could spot her, Lydia moved to sit on the other side of the table so that her back would be to everyone. 

 

“They need to have this pub as big as Hogwarts,” George muttered as he sat down and handed her a tankard of Butterbeer, “it’s honestly quite small considering how - are you all right?” 

 

“Yeah,” 

 

He stared at her. 

 

“You look terrible,” 

 

“Wow. Thanks, Georgie,” 

 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” He said quickly, “I mean, you look tired. And you’ve lost weight. Have you been sleeping? Or eating?” 

 

“Obviously,” Lydia said just as her stomach began to rumble loudly. 

 

He raised his eyebrows at her. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“Nothing,” Lydia said, “honestly, George, I’m fine. I’ve just had a lot of work suddenly,” 

 

He opened his mouth to retaliate but someone clapped a hand onto her shoulder. She spilt butterbeer all down herself and looked up at Professor Slughorn. He was smiling jovially. 

 

“Lydia Potter!” He beamed, “I can't believe it’s October and we haven’t met yet! Horace Slughorn, Potions Master!” He shook her hand and sat down next to her. George was staring at him open mouthed. “And we’re both Slytherins, you know!” 

 

“Nice to meet you, Professor,” Lydia smiled.

 

“I was hoping I’d see you in my class, Lydia. I know you didn’t get an E in your potions OWL but I was more than happy to take you on! You have the same spark that you’re mother did or so I’m told,” 

 

“You taught my mother?” Lydia asked, genuinely interested. 

 

“Oh, yes,” he said, nodding his head thoughtfully, “Lily Evans was a fantastic potion maker...such a lovely girl,” he sighed and paused for a moment. “Anyway, I have a little get together every week...just a few selected students and I’ve been trying to get an invitation to you but no one can ever find you!” He laughed again, “there’s one this Saturday at eight o’clock, you should come you know! Your brother will be there as will your friend Hermione Granger,”

 

“I do a lot of the prefect duties for Slytherin,” Lydia lied, “it’s hard to get away,” 

 

Professor Slughorn smiled at her. 

 

“You’re so like your mother,” he sighed, “Do try and get away, won’t you?” He shook her hand and was off again. 

 

“What a strange man,” George said, frowning after him. “How come no one can ever find you? Aren’t with Ron, Harry and Hermione?” 

 

Lydia suddenly became interested in her Butterbeer. George’s frown only depended. 

 

“Lyds,” He said, “you’re spending time with them, aren’t you? I know you were a bit distant this summer but-“ 

 

Tears suddenly sprung to her eyes. At once, George leapt up from his seat and sat next to her. He put his arm around and she buried her face in her hands, getting annoyed at herself for crying in public. She didn’t even like crying in private, never mind for the entire pub to see. 

 

“What’s going on, Lydia? And don’t lie to me,” he added, “you’re terrible at lying to me,”

 

“I hate everything,” she said, “I hate school, I hate Quidditch, I hate prefect duties, I hate everyone around me. I’m not happy. I’m fed up of everything,” It all came spilling out of her before she could stop it. 

 

“Have you spoken to anyone?” George asked slowly. 

 

“I don’t have anyone to speak to,” she sobbed, “it’s like I’ve forgotten how to speak to my best friends,”

 

They sat in silence for a while. Dean and Ginny stopped kissing to look over at them. George glanced at his sister and gave a halfhearted shrug. Lydia looked over at Harry, Ron and Hermione but they weren’t paying them any attention. She wasn’t even sure they had noticed them. 

 

“I can’t stop thinking about Sirius. I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see him dying again and again and  _ again _ ,” Lydia muttered, “and then I see Voldemort and then I remember the sounds of parents dying and-“ a small sob escaped her lips, “and I haven’t spoken to Harry properly and I agreed to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team even though I hate them all,” 

 

“You’re going to play Quidditch?” He asked quietly. 

 

“I like how that’s what you took away from that,” 

 

“I think it’s a good thing.” George said, “it means you’ll have something to focus on. Something to distract you for a bit,” 

 

“Yeah,” She shrugged, “I just...I don’t know how long I can take it. Everyone thinks I’m the ‘chosen one’ like Harry but I don’t want to be. They expect me to be something I’m not and-“ 

 

“Have you spoken to Harry?” He asked.

 

“No,” 

 

“Maybe you should start there,” 

 

Lydia groaned and rested her head on her arms. George rubbed her back in a way that made her feel like she was melting. 

 

“Here’s what we’ll do,” George said, pulling her up. He wiped her eyes with the sleeve of his jumper. “We’ll go shopping, I’ll buy you some flowers because I’m going to become one of those boyfriends and if everything is still shit, you can always drop out of school and come and work with me and Fred,”

 

“Can Fabio come to?” Lydia asked, her voice thick with tears.

 

“Fabio can come wherever he wants,”

 

The rest of the day was a lot better. George wouldn’t let Lydia buy anything with her own money and, true to his promise, bought her a bunch of everlasting Sunflowers (“they’ll even survive in the ever depressing Slytherin common room,” he promised) a quite fancy quill that she knew she would look obnoxious using but couldn’t care less and a dress that she’d probably never wear.  She managed to convince him to let her buy her own ink and parchment though he do so quite begrudgingly. By the time 5 o’clock rolled around and she realised she had to go back to the castle, she had forgotten how depressing her life truly way. 

 

Bunch of sunflowers in one hand and all her shopping bags in the other, Lydia made her way back to Hogwarts. Just in front of her, Harry, Ron and Hermione were also walking back to school. Lydia trailed behind them slightly but froze in her tracks when she saw something quite distressing: Katie Bell had risen six feet into the air. Her arms held out and her face disturbingly blank. Her friend, Leeanne, was sobbing and clutching onto her ankles, trying to pull her down. 

 

At once, Lydia ran towards Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry took off running down the path to find someone whilst Hermione hopped from one foot to the other, obviously trying to think of the best spell to sort Katie. If Lydia knew of such a spell, she could not think of it for her mind had gone blank in her panic. 

 

Harry returned moments later followed by Hagrid just as Katie fell to the floor. At once, Hagrid picked up Katie and looked at the others. 

 

“Don’ touch that necklace!” Hagrid ordered, running up the path towards the castle.

 

Lydia rounded on the others. 

 

“What happened?” She demanded. 

 

“I-I don’t know,” Leeanne sobbed, “she went to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and came back with that necklace. She said that she had to give it to Professor Dumbledore, no matter what.” 

 

Harry frowned at her. 

 

“Did she say who gave it her?” 

 

“No,” 

 

Hermione put her arm around her. 

 

“It’s okay, Leeanne. We’ll go up to school now. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to put her right,”

 

They hurried up to the school. Professor McGonagall and Snape were waiting for them in the Entrance Hall. Snape took out his wand and flicked it slightly. The necklace floated out of Harry’s hands and into the air, rotating slightly. 

 

“What happened?” McGonagall asked Leeanne. She recounted the story again through sobs and Lydia somehow found herself more confused. 

 

“Go up to Madam Pomfrey and ask for something for shock,” McGonagall said kindly. When Leeane had left, she turned on Lydia and the others. “What did you see?” 

 

“I only saw her go in the air,” Lydia said, “I was walking back to school and she just rose into the air,” 

 

“Before that she and Leeanne were arguing about something. I think it was the necklace,” Hermione said, “but she didn’t say who gave it to her-“ 

 

“It was Draco Malfoy,” Harry said quickly. 

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, Ron looked in the opposite direction and Lydia almost dropped her flowers. Professor Snape fixed him with a hard cold stare and McGonagall's mouth went very thin. 

 

“That’s a very serious accusation, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said. 

 

“I know. But I really think it was him,” he said firmly. 

 

“Very well,” McGonagall said, “You four better get going now,” 

 

They didn’t need telling twice. Lydia got a former grip on her bags and started in the direction of the dungeons, but Harry caught up to her and pulled her back whilst Ron and Hermione carried onto Gryffindor tower. 

 

“Malfoy is a Death Eater,” Harry said. 

 

Lydia almost dropped her flowers again. 

 

“What?” 

 

“It makes sense,” he said, “he went to Borgin and Burke’s to buy that necklace. And he showed Borgin the Dark Mark, that’s why he was so scared!” 

 

“Don’t be stupid, H.” Lydia snapped, “he said it was a pair-“ 

 

“They could have two!” Harry said. 

 

“He said one of them was broken-“

 

“Necklaces can break,” 

 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “And can be fixed with a simple repairing spell. Whatever Malfoy was talking about was obviously more complicated or he wouldn’t need help,” 

 

“He’s a Death Eater. I’m sure of it,” 

 

“They don’t just let  _ anyone  _ become a Death Eater, Harry. Especially not a sixteen year old school kid!” 

 

“I’m telling you, he’s replaced his dad!” 

 

“And I’m telling you, you’re being a dickhead,” Lydia snapped. 

 

“You know, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately-“ 

 

“Why don’t you talk to dad about it? That’s all you ever seem to do,” 

 

“Trouble in Potter paradise?” A cold voice drawled. 

 

“Shove off, Malfoy,” Harry snapped, “This isn’t any of your business,” 

 

“It is my business when you’re blocking the way to my common room,” Malfoy said. 

 

Lydia rolled her eyes at him and took an exaggerated step to the side to let him past. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. 

 

“Piss off, Malfoy, I’ve had a bad day,” Lydia said, “I’m not in the mood,” 

 

He glanced down at the flowers in her hands and raised an eyebrow. 

 

“I beg to differ,” 

 

“I beg for you to shut up,” 

 

He scoffed and shoved past her, waking into the dungeons. Harry turned to look at her, a sympathetic look on his face. 

 

“You’ve had a bad day?” 

 

“Don’t act like you suddenly care,” She snarled. 

 

Harry glared at her again. “Right, whatever, I’ll see you later,” and he stormed off. 

 

Lydia resisted the urge to curse him and turned on her heel, walking back to the common room as tears pricked her eyes. She hated arguing with Harry more than anyone else in the world. There had been a time when they only had each other and would waste no time in confiding in each other. Now she didn’t even know how to speak to him without snapping at him. 

 

“Potter, we need to go over diversionary tactics because - Merlin, are you crying?” Urquhart faltered as he drew level with her in the common room. 

 

“I don’t want to talk about it with  _ you _ ,” She said scathingly. 

 

He raised his eyebrows. 

 

“Right. Obviously. Um..” he handed her a sheaf of parchment, “just go over all this. It’s diagrams and stuff of formations for the game.”

 

She took them off him and shoved them in one of her bags. “Right, thanks Urquhart,” 

 

“Wait - you’ve not broken up with your boyfriend have you?” He asked. 

 

Lydia frowned at him. “What? No!” 

 

He relaxed. “Good. Don’t want you distracted,” 

 

By the time she got back to her dormitory, Fabio was still on her bed. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re enjoying!! 
> 
> -E


	7. Best Friend Duties

The first Quidditch match of the year was looming ever closer and Lydia hadn’t been so nervous about something since the first Triwizard Tournament task. At least there would be no dragons on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Since Katie Bell has been cursed and was staying at St Mungo's, there had been a very late addition to the team: Dean Thomas. Urquhart hoped that his late addition would work in Slytherins favour, but Lydia didn’t think so. 

Somehow, none of the Gryffindor team had cottoned onto the fact that Lydia was on the team. Lydia would have thought that by this point, someone would have realised. Or maybe they just didn’t care.

October sped up horrifyingly fast and when Lydia woke up on the day of the match, she was starting to wonder why on earth she had agreed to play. George had written to her the previous day to tell her that he wouldn’t be able to get away from the shop to come and see her play. Secretly, she was quite happy about it - she didn’t want him to see make a fool of herself.

“Who’d have thought that Potter knew how to play Quidditch,” Zabini said in the changing rooms.

“Who’d have thought you could speak,” Lydia said, “I think that’s the most amount of words you’ve said in your life,”    
  
“I knew it’d be a bad idea, having her on the team,” Fredericks muttered. “All she’s done since September is snap at us,”    
  
“If you weren’t such a nightmare, I probably wouldn’t have to,” Lydia snapped, adjusting her robes, “Merlin, you could have at least got a green that doesn’t clash with my eyes so much,”    
  
Lydia saw Malfoy roll his eyes at her in the mirror.    
  
“Whatever,” Urquhart said, “let's get going,”   
  
Lydia picked up the Firebolt she had hurriedly bought second hand via the mail order form in the back of a broomstick magazine Urquhart had given her. She very quickly realised that she knew nothing about broomsticks and only ordered the Firebolt because of Harry.    
  
They walked onto the pitch to raucous applause that was replaced by the sounds of gasps as people recognised Lydia. James, who was refereeing, tripped over his broomstick when he saw her. When the Gryffindor team walked onto the pitch, Lydia quite plainly heard Harry shout, “WHAT THE FUCK IS MY SISTER DOING?”    
  
“Captains, shake hands,” James ordered, still frowning at Lydia, “On my whistle. Three, two, one-“   
  
Lydia kicked off the ground and the wind blew through her hair and robes. She veered to the right slightly as the first Bludger came her way and almost crashed into Harry who was staring at her incredulously.    
  
“You never told me you were playing Quidditch!” He yelled.    
  
“You never asked!”    
  
She beamed at him and flew off, meeting Zabini half away across the pitch and catching the Quaffle. She flew underneath him and zig zagged out of the way of the Bludgers, Urquhart came up behind her and she reversed passed to him, shooting upwards and confusing one of the Gryffindor beaters who barrelled straight into Katie Bell.    
  
In the end, Slytherin lost 360 - 350, with Lydia scoring the most. Malfoy threw his broom on the ground and stormed off the pitch but Urquhart hurried over to her when she landed. He was smiling ever so slightly.    
  
“Not bad, Potter,” He said, “Definitely could have scored that last one,”    
  
“Excuse you, you scored none! It’s not my fault Crabbe and Goyle are terrible beaters,”   
  
Lydia left the changing rooms as quickly as possible. She had already had to pretend to be friends with the Slytherins for too long and it was starting to give her a headache. She strolled back up to the castle, her broom over her shoulder and wondering why on Earth it had taken her so long to start playing.    
  
“Lydia! Lydia! LYDIA LILY POTTER!”   
  
She jumped and turned around. Harry ran over her to her. He was still wearing his Quidditch robes and his face was bright red, telling her that he’d probably been running after her.    
  
“Oh, hey, Harry.”    
  
He stopped in his tracks a few metres away from her.    
  
“‘Hey, Harry,’ seriously? You just play the best game of Quidditch I’ve seen in ages and you’re being casual about it?” He asked, gobsmacked. “Why didn’t you tell me you tried out for the team?”    
  
“I never tried out. Urquhart asked me to play,” Lydia said.    
  
“Wait...really?” He said, “Lydia...do you not think that this might be one of Slytherins sick plans to hurt you?”    
  
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Not everything is a sick plan to hurt one of us, Harry,”    
  
“Lydia! These are Slytherins we’re talking about! You know what they’re all like!”    
  
“What we’re “all” like? Wow, thanks Harry.” Lydia snapped, “I guess I’ll go and kill some Muggle-borns before I head down to the library because that’s what we’re all like,”    
  
“I didn’t mean it like that!” He said quickly, “I know you’re not all like that! I just meant...this specific brand of Slytherin might want to hurt you and-“   
  
“Fuck off, Harry,”    
  
“What?” He yelled, “I don’t know what has gotten into you-“    
  
“I’m sorry for not believing your cracked up theory that everyone is trying to kill me but I’ll remind you that the last time you thought someone was trying to kill someone close to you, it ended up being a lie and then he actually died,” Lydia shouted before she could stop herself.    
  
Harry jerked back from her as if she had hexed him and part of her wished that she had just hexed him.    
  
“If you’re talking about Sirius-“ Harry shouted.    
  
“Harry, no, wait, I-“    
  
“It’s not like I wanted him to die!” He yelled, “that wasn’t part of the plan! I’m just looking out for you!”    
  
“I don’t need anyone looking out for me, Harry! I’m more than capable of getting by on my own! I’m not a child!” She screamed at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was on the Quidditch team, but I didn’t realise that I had to share every single detail of my life with you!”    
  
“Marlins beard, Lydia! I don’t think you do but this is a big deal! I just thought you’d tell your brother of all people.” He sounded slightly hurt and it made Lydia feel even worse than she already did. “Since the end of last term, I’ve been trying to speak to you but you just ignore me! It’s like you’ve forgotten that I’m the only damn person in this school who had a vague idea of what it’s like to be you!”    
  
“NO YOU DON’T!” She screamed, “YOU HAVE NO BLOODY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO BUSY BEING GRYFFINDOR’S GOLDEN BOY!”    
  
“Miss Potter! What on earth are you- oh,” Professor McGonagall was walking down the steps of the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and faltered when she saw them stood apart and shouting at each other. “Are you two arguing?”    
  
“No, Professor,” Lydia said stiffly, “We’re fine,” 

“Kids! What are you-?” James had just wandered into the Entrance Hall.

“Speak to Harry about it,” she said coldly, “since you’re more than used to doing that,” Lydia turned on her heel and attempted to march down to the dungeons but James grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

“Nope, not getting away from this one,” he said, “Don’t worry, Professor McGonagall, I can sort this one out,”

Back in James’ office, Lydia sat on the couch furthest away from Harry, her arms folded tightly. James stood in the middle of them, looking between them. Harry was slouched back in one of the chairs, looking mutinous.

“You know, when I imagined sorting out a Slytherin and Gryffindor argument, I didn’t think it would be because my two kids can’t even talk to each other anymore,” he said, a steely note in his voice, “after everything you two have been through, I really thought you wouldn’t sink this low,”

“That’s what I said!” Harry snapped.

 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “He thinks everyone is out to kill us and it’s-“ 

 

“Understandable!” James said, “it’s very understandable!” 

 

“Oh yeah, take his side. That sounds about right,” Lydia exclaimed, “I just want to be normal. I don’t want to imagine that every person I meet is trying to do me in!” 

 

“Lydia, have you ever thought that you might not be able to be normal?” Harry asked, his eyes flickering to the scar on her head, “one day, you might have to face Vol-“ 

 

“I’ve already told you, I’ll off myself before he can,” Lydia said coldly. 

 

“That’s not funny, Lyds,” James snapped. 

 

“I’m not joking,” she said bluntly. 

 

“Lydia, if you came to to these meetings with Dumbledore you’d realise how important they are!” Harry pleaded. 

 

“They’re important to you, Harry, they’re not important to me,” 

 

“Don’t you want to do anything about it? Don’t you want to avenge Cedric? Or Sirius? Or  _ mum _ ?” 

 

Lydia jumped up, tears in her eyes. 

 

“Don’t use them against me. That’s not fair. Don’t try and guilt trip me into following Dumbledore blindly. I’m done doing that,” she said, her voice shaking. “If mum was alive, she’d probably want us to do everything we can to stay safe or have you forgotten she sacrificed herself for us?” 

 

“If mum was alive we wouldn’t have these scars on our heads and wouldn’t have to worry about defeating him,” Harry said calmly. 

 

Lydia glanced at James who had started crying at the mention of Lily. She looked away and looked back at Harry who was still sat down but looked still looked ready to argue. Lydia was too tired to deal with any of this. 

 

“If you’re way of avenging mums death is to try and kill the man who killed her, fine,” Lydia said, “But I want to stay alive for her. She died for  _ us,  _ Harry, the last thing I want to do is die and make that sacrifice worthless,” 

 

“Lydia, you and Harry living one more week would have been enough for your mother,”

 

“I’m starting to think it might have been enough for me,” She snapped. With one last withering glare at the two of them, Lydia stormed out of the office and slammed the door behind her.

 

Tears threatened to spill over her cheeks but she furiously wiped her eyes as she arrived in the dungeons. She had already cried in the common room once before and she wasn’t quite ready to do so again. The last thing she needed was people to think that she was unhinged, though she wasn’t quite sure she wasn’t at this point. 

 

“Oi, Potter! Were you just arguing with your brot-“    
Urquhart was stood in the entrance of the common room. 

  
“Depulso,” Lydia muttered, pointing her wand at Urquhart who fell backwards through the entrance of the common room.    
  
“It’s so annoying because I can’t even throw her off the team...” she heard him mutter as she walked to her dormitory and slammed the door shut behind her.    
  


Lydia lasted about half an hour in her dormitory. Parkinson seemed unable to shut up for an extended period of time and Lydia was already in a bad enough mood as it is. Muttering something about a prefect duty that she didn’t have, she put Fabio on her shoulder and hurriedly left the room and let her legs carry her wherever they may please. 

 

“You’re an arsehole sometimes, you know that?”    
  
Hermione had just shoved her in the shoulder. Lydia hadn’t even noticed her come up to her. 

  
“Good evening to you to, Hermione,”    
  
“No - don’t give me any of that crap,” She snapped, “Harry came back to the common room in bits after the match and I heard Bulstrode and Parkinson talking about how you hexed Urquhart in the toilets before”    
  
“And?”   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at her.    
  
“Seriously? You have a shouting match with your brother in the Entrance Hall, storm away from your dad and McGonagall and then hex your Quidditch Captain,” She said, “And” she added, “you don’t tell your best friends that you’re on the Quidditch team!”    
  
“Sorry, since when did I have to tell everyone every detail of my life?” Lydia snapped back, “Do you want me to catch you up now?”    
  
“Lydia-“   
  
“I woke up at half past 6, went to kitchens and got some food, then I went back to the common room and caught up on some work, got ready and then I played some Quidditch and-“    
  
“Lydia!” Hermione yelled, “What is wrong with you? Ever since Sirius you’ve-“    
  
“been grieving? How dare I!”    
  
Hermione closed her eyes and seemed to pull herself together, breathing in deeply. Lydia was quite proud of herself. She very rarely won arguments with Hermione where her feelings were he source of the disagreement in he first place.    
  
“Lydia, I know it’s been hard for you, but it’s also hard for Harry. If you spoke to him-“    
  
“We’d start arguing again and I can’t deal with that right now, Hermione.”    
  
“Fine. But dont think I’m going to start being the messenger between you and Harry because neither of you can grow up enough to speak to each other,”    
  
“Fine. I don’t expect you to, either.”

 

They glared at each other for a moment and then Hermione burst into tears. Lydia jumped slightly. 

 

“‘Mione..” She said weakly, “I’m sorry if I upset you, I was just-“ 

 

“No, no,” She sniffed, “its Ron...”

 

“Why? Is he OK?” Lydia asked hurriedly. 

 

“Oh yes, he’s  _ fine _ ,” Hermione said scathingly. 

 

“Um..”

 

“He’s currently somewhere kissing Lavender Brown,” Hermione said, tears cascading over her cheeks. 

 

At once, any ill will Lydia was feeling towards Hermione disappeared. She grabbed Hermione's hand and they went and sat in an empty classroom. Hermione leant back against one of the desks and shook her head. 

 

“I really thought something was going to happen,” she admitted. 

 

Lydia nodded. Hermione had never explicitly told Lydia about her feelings for Ron but only an idiot wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. Since their fourth year, something had been brewing between them and one of them always managed to mess it up. Ron seemed to have massively messed it up by snogging Lavender Brown. 

 

“Slughorn's Christmas party is coming up, you know.” Hermione said thickly through tears, “and even though we never really said it, we were actually going with each other,” she rubbed her eyes, “and then he goes and does this...” 

 

“Honestly, Hermione, he’s stupid to not go with you. You’re gorgeous!” Lydia picked Fabio up of her shoulder and handed him to Hermione. “He’ll make you feel better...” 

 

“You’re only saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

 

“I’m saying that even though I’m your best friend,” Lydia countered, “You have great hair, your skin always looks like it’s glowing, you’re kind and funny and really smart,” Lydia smiled at her, “Lavender is lovely, but she’s no Hermione Granger,” 

 

Hermione sighed and rested her head on Lydia’s shoulder. 

 

“I’ve missed you,” Hermione said. 

 

“I know. I’ve missed you,” 

 

“Promise to be around more?” 

 

“Promise,”

 

“I feel like Fabio is the only decent Male in this castle,” Hermione said, stroking him.

 

“Sign of the times,” Lydia muttered. 

 

—

 

Lydia woke up on Monday morning determined to be a better friend than she had been. Though she still wasn’t ready to put her pride aside to speak to Harry, she was going to suck it up and stand by Hermione. Still not ready to face the Great Hall and Harry or James, Lydia got food from the kitchens and stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, waiting for Hermione. 

Harry came out first. There was a tense moment in which they stood and stared at each other, as if daring the other to speak but then gutted and walked away. Ron and Lavender followed them, holding hands in a way that made Lydia want to throw up on them. Finally, Hermione came out looking quite murderous. 

 

“I got some breakfast,” Lydia said, holding up the stack of toast she was holding.

 

“Thank-you,” Hermione said gratefully.

 

The walked the long way round to Ancient Runes and Lydia let Hermione complain about Ron and Lavender. Apparantley, Lavender hadn’t shut up about him all week and had gone out of her way to kiss him in front of her. Lydia said that she’s probably grow out of it and it was just a weird phase at the start of relationships. 

 

“You and George were never like that when you first started going out,” Hermione pointed out. 

 

“Yeah but that was because I was too worried about the Triwizard Tournament than snogging my boyfriend at every opportunity,” Lydia pointed out, “and also because I hate couples that do that,” she added. 

 

They arrived outside of Ancient Runes ten minutes before the bell was due to ring. The only other person there was Daphne Greengrass who seemed to have been able to escape the clutches of Pansy Parkinson. She was sat cross legged on the floor reading a book and smiled at them both when they arrived. 

 

“Hello, Lydia, Hermione,” she said. 

 

Hermione raised her eyebrows and didn’t say anything. Lydia smiled at her and said hello back. 

 

“You’re a really good Quidditch player, Lydia,” Daphne said, “I didn’t know you could play so well,”

 

“Thanks, Daphne,” Lydia smiled, “it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be,” 

 

“Oh, by the way, I got a letter off Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes telling me to pick up my Pygmy Puff at Christmas. Thanks for writing and asking them to put one aside for me,” 

 

“No problem,” Lydia said, “I sent a letter to George when they had bred a new batch. I told him to get a pink one but juries out on whether he read the letter properly or not,” 

 

The bell rang and they hurried into the classroom. Lydia and Hermione took their usual seats at the front of class and pulled everything out of their bags. 

 

“Since when were you and Daphne Greengrass friends?” Hermione whispered to her. 

 

“I’m not replacing you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Lydia whispered back. 

 

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

 

“I didn’t think you liked any of the Slytherin girls,” 

 

“I don’t but Daphne’s nice. She’s grown up a lot since first year. I actually heard her have a go at Davis the other day for bullying a third year,” 

 

“I’m glad you have someone on your team in that common room,” 

 

Professor Babbling came into the room and they fell silent. Lydia felt a lot lighter than she had done in days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do love the drama of this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos! 
> 
> -E


	8. Slughorns Christmas Party

Lydia was now not only avoiding her brother, but Professor Slughorn. Invitations to his little get together kept on being delivered to her and she ignored every single one. Whenever she saw him coming down the corridor, she’d force herself to blend in with a crowd of first years or jump sideways into a bathroom - male or female. 

And in the week leading up to the Christmas Holidays when Lydia was queued up outside Transfiguration, he came down the corridor and there was nowhere to hide. She tried to casually slip behind Ron, but Professor Slughorn had already spotted her.

“Lydia! You still haven’t come to one of my get togethers!” He said, “you must come to this next one! It’s a Christmas party!”

“Professor, I-“

“I’ll be delighted to see you!” He continued, talking as though he hadn’t heard her, “get the charming Mr Weasley to come with you! I want to hear all about his and his brothers shop! Miss Granger, you’ll be coming too won’t you?” 

Hermione nodded. “Oh yes, we both will,  _ won’t we, _  Lydia _?_ ”

And Lydia had no choice but to nod along.

Slughorn beamed at them both before becoming distracted by Harry who was rescued by Professor McGonagall calling them into the classroom. Lydia snatched her bag off the floor and hurried in. She and Hermione took their seats behind Harry and Ron, and Lydia couldn’t help but glare at the back of her brothers head - she couldn’t quite understand why she was still being so childish.

“Today we are starting human Transfiguration,” McGonagall said. There was a murmur or interest and Lydia suddenly wondered if there was a chance she could cover up her scar for good.

McGonagall began to explain the theory behind the spell they would be attempting ( _ crinus muto _ ) and Lydia hurriedly began to make notes, her hands whizzing over the parchment. When she glanced up at the board to make sure she was spelling a word correctly, Harry stretched his arms above his head and the robe of his sleeve fell down, revealing the bracelet that she had bought him for his birthday. A pang of guilt overtook her for a moment when she remembered that the only reason they weren’t talking was because she was being an idiot. Pushing any feelings of guilt down, Lydia loaded her quill with ink again and caught up on her notes.

Seamus walked around the classroom and handed out mirrors; they would be attempting to change the colour of their eyebrows. Subconsciously, Lydia rubbed hers and began to worry about the possibility that she might not be able to change them back for Slughorn's Christmas party before stopping herself - was she even going?

The lesson that followed was actually quite fun. Neville managed to make his eyebrows so long they covered his eyes, Dean changed his whole head of hair pink and, much to Hermione's amusement, Lavender Brown cursed her eyebrows off and seemed unable to grow them again. Lydia’s eyebrows were remaining black. She was only trying to get them a shade or two lighter but they were stubbornly black. After fifteen minutes, Hermione managed to change her eyebrows to blonde and received 10 points for Gryffindor.

Two minutes before the lesson ended, Ron yelled and almost fell backwards off his chair for he had managed to give himself a handlebar moustache. Hermione laughed scathingly but once McGonagall had gotten rid of his moustache, he retaliated by doing a cruel impression of her in class: jumping up and down with his hand in the air and sticking his teeth out.

Hermione burst into tears and ran out of the room with her face in her hands as Parvati and Lavender laughed on. Harry hit Ron around the back of the head and grabbed everything that Hermione had left on her desk before hurrying after her. 

“You’re a bit of a git sometimes, you know that?” Lydia snapped at Ron.

“She laughed at my moustache!” He said indignantly

“It looked stupid,” Lydia said, “everyone laughed at your moustache,”

“It’s not my fault she’s got her wand in a twist about me and Lavender!”

Lydia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You said you were going to Slughorn's party with her,” she pointed out, “you can imagine why she’s ever so slightly pissed off with you,”

When Lavender wandered over to them, Lydia quickly left the room and found Harry and Hermione halfway down the corridor. Hermione still seemed to be crying.

“He’s a git,” Lydia said firmly.

“He is,” Harry agreed, handing her her pencil case.

Hermione nodded. “I’ve got an extra Arithmancy class. I’ll see you later,” and she hurried off down the corridor.

There was a moment in which Lydia and Harry had been unified in making Hermione feel better, but it quickly evaporated and they both just stood staring at each other. Lydia pretended to look for something in her bag, hoping that something would happen to break the silence.

“Are you going to Slughorn's Christmas party?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Yeah. Are you?” Lydia asked, finally looking up for her bag.

He nodded. “Is George coming?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll probably floo him later and ask. Or write to him.”

He nodded again.

“You know one of your eyebrows is yellow,” Lydia said, pointing.

“Ah,” He said, “I’ll get Hermione to put it right,”

“Or just leave it,” She shrugged, “you could make a statement,”

He snorted and then fell into silence again before he said, “I better go. I’ve got loads of stuff to do for Sprout,” and he left Lydia stood alone in the corridor, wondering what on Earth she was going to do with her free period.

She hoisted her bag further up her shoulder and began to walk to the library. Maybe she would start the Transfiguration homework that McGonagall had just set her or go and ask Professor Babbling about that rune that had popped up in one of her books that she’d never see before. Or maybe she’d go and have a nap.

“Lydia, can I speak to you?” James was walking through the Entrance Hall followed by a group of first years clutching the school brooms.

“Aren’t you busy?” Lydia asked, pointing at the first years.

“Walk with me, then. You haven’t got a class, have you?”

Lydia shook her head and followed her dad out onto the Quidditch pitch. She hung back slightly as he gave them instructions to do laps (carefully) around the pitch. Once they were up and flying, he walked over to her wearing an expression that told her she was about to be lectured on something. 

“What?”

“You put your name down to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas,” said James.

Lydia blinked. “Oh. I didn’t realise. It’s a bit of a habit,”

“You’re not staying here on your own,” He said, “we’re spending it at The Burrow,”

“OK,”

“As a family,”

“Right,”

“No arguments,”

“Got it,”

 

—-

Lydia secretly wanted George to say that he wouldn’t be able to make it to Slughorn’s Christmas party because at least then she would have an excuse to not go. But he had very quickly sent her an owl back to let her know that Fred would be able to look after the shop for a while.

So, on the evening of December 20th, Lydia plonked herself in front of her mirror and smeared some make up on her face. It wasn’t very good, but she was past caring about something as trivial as makeup.

All in all, the finished product was quite good, she thought. She had put the dress on that George had bought her in Hogsmeade and it wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it was going to be; it was made of a floaty light blue material and fell to her calves. She dug around in her trunk and found the shoes that she had worn to the Yule Ball in fourth year, amazed that she had never thought to take them out of her trunk.

“You don’t look as good as you think you do,” Pansy Parkinson said from where she was sat on her bed.

“No,” Lydia agreed, “I probably look better,”

 

Before an argument could start, Lydia quickly left the dormitory and hurried up to the Entrance Hall to meet George. She felt quite self conscious stood in her dress robes whilst others milled around in their normal robes, casting her funny looks. Eventually, George appeared wearing black dress robes and looking around at Hogwarts with a smile. 

“I’ve missed this place,” he sighed, “you look beautiful,”

“I’m freezing,” she said, “whoever made this dress didn’t think about winter,”

“Probably because you’re meant to wear it in summer,”

“Who made you a fashion expert?” 

“I’ve always been one, you’ve just never noticed,” 

“Yeah, yeah...”

Professor Slughorn's office was quite possibly the biggest office that she had ever been in. It must have been magically enhanced because Lydia couldn’t understand how he had managed to fit all these people in. Lydia recognised some of them and was quite sure that the captain of the Holyhead Harpies was stood on the other side of the room talking to Slughorn. Lydia tried not to stare too much because she knew how annoying it was.

Hermione ran over to them, looking quite panic stricken and kept on looking over her shoulder as if she was being followed. 

“What’s up with you?” George asked. 

“I left Cormac under the mistletoe,” she whispered, shuddering.

Lydia gaped at her. 

“You invited Cormac Mclaggen?”

“I was trying to make Ron jealous!” She hissed back, “I should have just come on my own- oh here he comes, tell him I’m in the bathroom!” And she hurried off again. 

“Have you seen Hermione?” Cormac asked, looking around.

“Who?” George asked. 

“Hermione. Hermione Granger,”

Lydia placed a hand on Cormacs arm and gave him a sad look. “Cormac, Hermione has been dead for three years. Move on,” 

“Living in the past isn’t good for you, mate,” George said, clapping him on the back.

Cormac gave them both strange looks and barged past them. Once he was out of earshot, they burst out laughing and watched as he wandered around the room, trying to find Hermione. James came over to them with an apprehensive look on his face.

“Do I want to know why you two are laughing?” 

“We just told Cormac Mclaggen that Hermione died,” George explained. 

“Why?” 

“It’s funny,” Lydia shrugged, “she's actually only gone to the toilet,”

James gave them a strange look. “That’s the kind of thing me and Sirius would have done,”

“Our next step is to actually kill Hermione and make it more realistic,” George said.

“Or at least make her leave Hogwarts for a while,” Lydia added. 

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Luna. She was wearing a layered silver dress that made her look almost like a Christmas tree. Once you got over the initial shock of the dress, it was actually quite nice looking. Her hair looked a lot less scraggly than usual and the absence of her radish earrings made a big difference. 

“Hello Luna,” Lydia said, “I didn’t know you were coming today,”

“Harry invited me. We’re here as friends,” Luna said.

The fact that Luna added the fact that they were there as friends on told Lydia that Harry had been quite explicit in explaining this to her. Harry appeared behind her holding two drinks and looking quite sheepish, followed by Hermione who was still looking over her shoulder.

“I thought you were dead, Hermione,” James said seriously. 

“What?”

“There’s a biographer over there who’s dying to write a book about us,” Harry told Lydia, “watch out,” 

“Can’t be worse than Rita Skeeter,” George muttered.

“You’re still bitter because she got you and Fred mixed up in that article she wrote about the Yule Ball,” Lydia said.

“Mum thought you and Fred were going out for about three weeks!” He said, “Then she thought you were going out with both of us at the same time!”

“That’s what it feels like sometimes,” Lydia muttered but only so that Hermione could hear who giggled into her bottle of Butterbeer. “Oh, here we go-“ she sighed as Slughorn made his way over to them.

He grabbed Harry and Lydia and pulled them next to him in front of a photographer who Lydia hadn’t noticed before. She forced a smile onto her face whilst he took a picture and she tried to get away but then Slughorn grabbed James and pulled him into frame.

“Who’d have thought we’d ever have you all together!” Slughorn said happily, “A fine family, the Potters!” He beamed at them all again but got distracted when saw George and starting questioning him about the shop. 

James glowered at the back of Slughorn's head. “He never liked me when I was at school,” 

“Yeah but you were just James Potter back at school, weren’t you?” Lydia said, “now you’re back from the dead James Potter. Much more interesting,” 

“I’ve always been interesting!” 

“And you married his favourite student,” Harry said, “honestly, he never shuts up about mum,”

“She was very good at potions, your mum,” James said, “very helpful to poor Remus who struggled to stand a cauldron the right way up,” 

“That’s something I can relate to,” Lydia sighed. 

“I doubt your mum would have  _ cheated  _ during her potions lessons,” Hermione said in a tetchy sort of voice. 

James raised his eyebrows. “Cheated?” He glanced at Harry, “you’re cheating?” 

“No!” Harry said, shooting a furious glare at Hermione, “I just have a book that someone’s scribbled instructions in that make my potions a lot better than Hermiones!”

“Whose book was it?” Lydia asked. 

“It says it belonged to the Half-Blood Prince,” Hermione said. She looked at James, “I was wondering if you had any idea who that could be. The books dated back to when you were in school,”

James looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s not mine - I’m pure blood and the only nickname I ever had was Prongs...Sirius was pure blood...”

“What about Remus?” Harry asked. 

“He is Half-blood but we never called him the Half-blood prince. Sirius always had weird nicknames for him but that’s just because he was one of those annoying boyfriends and-“

“Boyfriend?” Harry yelped. 

Everyone turned to stare at Harry. 

“Yes,” Lydia said slowly, “Sirius was gay...and his boyfriend was Remus...” 

“Did you not know?” James asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

Harry was steadily turning red. “N-no. No one told me,”

“Merlin, you’re oblivious to everything!” Hermione said. 

After this, Lydia could tell that Harry was in a strange mood and began to avoid him. She felt as though this would be one of those days where if she said something wrong, the conversation would dissolve into a massive argument again. Instead, she and George found a corner to sit in and watched the party unfold. Lydia’s favourite moment had to be Hermione purposely stuffing her face with pieces of chocolate because Cormac had cornered her under the mistletoe. 

“Does Ron actually realise he likes Hermione or what?” George asked. 

“I think he realises, he just has no idea how to actually deal with it,” Lydia said, “It’s been obvious to everyone but him since fourth year and he just doesn’t know how to deal with it,”

“Give them time...” he said, sighing and putting his arm around her, “are you feeling better now?”

Lydia dropped her head on to his shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “part of me feels fine and I can just go about my daily life normally but then every now and then I just get this paralysing feeling of sadness and I can't move,” 

“You need to speak to Harry,” 

“I can’t!” She protested, “we had a massive argument after the Quidditch match and we’ve barely spoken,” 

“Yeah, I thought things were weird between you. But seriously, speak to him.” George said firmly, “I don’t know what it’s like to be a child who lived,”

“I’m coming to The Burrow for Christmas, anyway,” Lydia told him, “I’ll speak to him then,” 

George looked down at her. 

“Well, I’m probably going to have to get you a Christmas present then, am I?” 

“Probably,” 

There was a scuffle at the door and Lydia and George both jumped up, wands in their hands. The door opened and Mr Filch came in, dragging Draco Malfoy behind him. Lydia shoved her wand back in the belt of her dress. 

“Found this one trying to gatecrash,” Mr Filch snarled, “said he was invited,” 

“Alright, I wasn’t invited!” Malfoy yelled, yanking himself out of Filch’s grip.

“No matter, no matter..” Slughorn said, waving a hand airily, “it is Christmas after all, there’s no need for punishment..” 

“I will be the judge of that,” said Snape, stepping out from the shadows. Lydia hadn’t even noticed that he was there, “Mr Malfoy is in my house, after all - come,”

Malfoy glared at Snape but followed him out of the room nevertheless. Lydia then watched as Harry slipped away from James, Hermione and Luna and followed them out. George noticed too because he nudged Lydia and pointed at him just as he disappeared out of the door. 

“Do you think we should follow him?”

“No,” Lydia said firmly, “I told you, I’m done with all that crap. I’m just going to sit down and pretend that my brother isn’t following two of his least favourite people through a deserted castle,”

And that’s what she did. For the rest of the night, she and George retreated to their corner and talked about everything that wasn’t Harry. When midnight approached and the party ended, they walked back to the Entrance Hall hand in hand. 

“Oh - wait!” George said, he flicked his wand and mistletoe started to grow over their heads. 

“You do this every Christmas,” Lydia said. 

“Are you complaining?” He asked, leaning closer. 

“Never said I was mad about it, it was just an observation,” 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re enjoying! 
> 
> -E


	9. Christmas at The Burrow

“So he was offering to help him?” Ron asked.

“If you ask that question one more time, I'm going to stick this sprout-”

Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled her Transfiguration book closer to her. Harry was still convinced that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater and it was all that Lydia could do to not snap at him. Before they had arrived at The Burrow, James had pulled Lydia aside and made her promise not to start an argument.

Harry and Ron were stood at the kitchen peeling a mountain of sprouts for Mrs Weasley whilst Lydia tried to finish a particularly horrible essay for Professor McGonagall. They had been talking about what Harry had heard Malfoy and Snape at Slughorn’s Christmas Party. He had told them both on the school train what he had heard and Lydia had had to distract herself with homework to not start shouting at him again.

“I'm only checking!” Ron said, casting a wary look at the sprout that Harry was holding.

“He said he'd promised Malfoy’s mum to protect him and that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath...’

“An Unbreakable Vow?” Lydia yelped, looking up from her homework, “Are you sure?”

Harry looked around at her in surprise. “Yeah...why?”

“You can't break an Unbreakable Vow,” Ron said slowly.

“Funnily enough, I'd worked that out for myself,” Harry said through gritted teeth, “What happens if you break it?”

“You die,” Lydia said bluntly.

Ron nodded.

“Fred and George tried to get me to make one once when I was five. I nearly did, too, but then Dad found us and he went mental. Fred reckons his left buttock has never been the same since,”

“Yeah, well, passing over Fred's left buttock...”

“I beg your pardon?” Said Fred's voice as the twins entered the kitchen. “Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything,”

“I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months time!” Said Ron, “And then I'll be able to do it by magic!”

“At least you're not like Harry and Lydia and have to wait until the end of July,” Fred said.

“Honestly, Fred, we have bigger things to worry about,” Harry muttered.

“I'm sure Ron will dazzle us all with unsuspected magical skills,” Fred said, clapping his brother on the back.

“And speaking of unsuspected skills, Ronald,” said George, dropping into the chair next to Lydia and putting his feet on the table, “I have heard, from an unnamed source, that you and a certain lady of the name of Lavender Brown are quite close,”

Ron turned around and looked at Lydia, “You told him?”

“He said unnamed source!” Lydia protested.

“I'm not saying that this source doesn't have messy black hair and green eyes, but I'm also not saying that they don't,” George shrugged.

Ron looked between Harry and Lydia, both of whom were trying to look as innocent as possible. Lydia smiled at him and turned back to her homework whilst Harry became interested in the Sprouts again.

“Mind your business,” Ron snapped.

“What a snappy retort,” said Fred, “I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was...how did it happen?”

“What d’you mean?”

“Did she have an accident or something?”

“What?”

“Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful, now!”

Mrs Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw a knife at Fred. He turned it into a paper aeroplane with one lazy flick of his wand. George sniggered as a furious Mrs Weasley rounded on him.

“Ron! Don't ever let me see you throwing knives again!” She said. Then she turned to Lydia, “Oh, Lydia, dear, Fabio is currently rolling around in the living room - will he be OK?”

“Oh, yes, he’ll be fine, Mrs Weasley. He's a bit weird like that,” Lydia shrugged.

“Fred, George, I'm sorry, dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill we have to squeeze in with you two,” said Mrs Weasley, “And James can stay with him,”

“No problem,” said George.

“Charlie won't be home so Harry and Ron are in the attic, and Fleur can stay with Ginny,” Mrs Weasley said, “Everyone should be comfortable,” she looked around the kitchen, looking harassed, “And Lydia you can stay in Percy's old room,”

“Percy not showing his ugly face, then?” Fred asked.

Mrs Weasley turned away. “No, he's busy, I expect,”

“Yeah, being the world's biggest prat,” Fred muttered as Mrs Weasley left the room. He stretched and good up, “Well, I'm off. There's a very pretty girl who works in the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvellous...almost like real magic...” He winked at them and left the kitchen.

“Oi, George, can you help us with these sprouts?”

“No,” George said, “It's character building. Also,” he added, throwing the paper aeroplane at him, “I wouldn't chuck knives at people who you want to help you - Lyds, you spelt ‘additionally’ wrong, it doesn't have four ‘d’s’ in it,”

“Are you sure?” Lydia asked.

“I think you're cracking under pressure,” George said.

“No such thing,” Lydia said briskly, “That's just what people say when they don't want to do work...how are we spelling the world ‘and’? Is it two N’s or one? Both look right to me,”

In the end, George had to force her parchment out of her hands and managed to convince her to not do anymore homework until after Christmas. Once she stopped stressing out over homework, she actually managed to enjoy herself. Ginny had decorated the living room so lavishly that it almost hurt to look out because of how bright the decorations actually were. Fred and George had confided in Lydia, Harry, Ron and James that the Angel on top of the tree wasn't actually an angel, but a gnome that had been stupefied, painted gold and stuffed into a miniature tutu.

“It's honestly quite ugly,” Lydia said, looking up at it as it glowered down on them.

“It's his own fault for biting me on the ankle,” Fred muttered darkly, “It bloody hurt,”

Lydia yawned and sank back into her seat. Fabio was dozing on George’s lap whilst he played chess with Ron. Ginny and Fred were playing Exploding Snap whilst James looked on, occasionally he purposely messed them up just for the satisfaction of seeing something explode. Harry was sat in deep conversation with Mr Weasley and Lupin who was looking thinner than ever. From what James had said, he had been given the task of going underground and trying to get the other Werewolves onto their side by Dumbledore and it wasn't going on. When Lydia heard Harry mention Draco Malfoy, she looked away and instead tried to listen to whatever story that Bill was telling about Goblins.

“I'm going to get a drink - do you want anything?” Lydia asked George.

George shook his head. “Nah, I'm alright,”

As she neared the kitchen, she could hear the sound of sniffling. She paused outside the kitchen door, not wanting to interrupt but then her curiosity got the better of her. Slowly, she pushed the door open and peered inside. Harry was sat on the kitchen table, wiping his eyes furiously as tears poured out of them.

“H! What's wrong?” Lydia asked, rushing into the kitchen.

“What do you care?” He snapped.

Lydia took a step back. “Right. Sorry. I’ll just-”

“No! Wait. I'm sorry there's just...a lot,” He sighed.

She hesitantly walked over to him and sat next to him.

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong?”

“I don't want to ruin Christmas,”

“You won't ruin Christmas,”

“I might,”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“Don't be a prat,”

He let out a shaky breath and jumped down from the table, pacing up and down the kitchen. Lydia watched him pace and realised how hypocritical she was being - she hadn't told Harry anything about what was happening in her life and now she was expecting him to tell her something that was obviously deeply personal. She waited until he was ready.

“I don't want - I mean - Cho was - didn't work out - but still - girls are - blokes are - confused - I mean - I was confused - not now - don't - but -” He stumbled over his words and he looked quite frantic.

“H, chill,” said Lydia, “Take your time,”

He stopped pacing and leant against the sink. For a moment, she thought he was going to be sick but then he turned around to face her.

“You're my sister,” he said, “you’re always going to be there for me, right?”

“What? Bloody hell, Harry, obviously I am!” She said, frowning. “You're starting to worry me. What's wrong?”

“I’m bisexual,” he basically whispered it, “And if you hate me, that's fine. I know it's weird and-” he was cut off as Lydia hugged him. He froze for a moment before he hugged her back and they were both sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” Lydia said, “I'm sorry I've been such a prat since June. I'm sorry I've ignored you no not spoken to you and said horrible things to you and-”

“Lyds,” He whispered, “it doesn't matter. We’ve both been stupid. We’ve both said things we shouldn't have,”

“I will support you through everything and anything,” Lydia promised him, “Through every relationship. Regardless of who it is with,” Harry burst into tears again and hugged her again. The door opened and George walked in.

“Babe, have you - oh,” he stood still for a moment, “do you want me to-”

“No, no it's fine.” Harry said, wiping his eyes. “We just needed to talk,”

“Understatement of the century,” George muttered, “So, are we all friends again?”

Harry nodded. “Will you get my dad?”

George smiled at Lydia and left the room when James came in. He stood and stared at his children for a moment as though he couldn't work out if the fact that they were both sobbing was a good thing or not.

“What's happened?” He asked.

“I need to tell you something,” Harry said, he straightened his back and cleared his throat. “I'm bisexual,” when he said it this time, he was a lot more confident.

James nodded, “I know, kid,”

“I - what?”

“I'm your dad. I know these things,” when he saw the look on Harry's face, he pretended to look shocked. “I mean...oh my Merlin! I had no idea! None whatsoever! You have been so subtle about the whole thing!”

“I don't want anyone else to know yet, though,” he added seriously, “I don't know how everyone will react..” He trailed off and looked worried again.

Lydia rested her head on his shoulder. “Take things as slowly as you won't. We won't rush you,”

\---

Lydia's bedroom door creaked open and she rolled over, expecting to find Ginny trying to find solace from Fleur, but it was George. He put a finger to his lips and slowly closed the door behind him, creeping over to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in bed,” He whispered, “What does it look like I'm doing?”

“Trying to get us killed by either your mum or my dad,”

“There's so many redheads in the house, mum won't notice if I'm in my room or not,” George said. When he saw the look on her face, he pulled the quilt up to his chin. “Look at how comfy I am,”

She rolled her eyes and lay back in bed, turning to face him. He grinned at her.

“Are you and Harry OK now?” He asked

Lydia nodded. “Finally.”

“I'm glad,” he said, “it means I can stop worrying about you,”

“You don't need to worry about me. I'm always fine,” she paused for a moment, “well, I'm fine like twenty percent of the time and that's more than enough,”

“That's not how it works,”

Amazingly, Lydia and George were never found out. When Mrs Weasley came to wake her up that morning, George was clever - and sneaky - enough to have pretended to have woke her up first and even opened the bedroom door so that poor Mrs Weasley didn't have to worry about teenage pregnancy. Ginny came in moments later, ranting and raging about Fleur, followed by a laughing Harry and Fred and a rather put out Ron who was holding something in his hands.

“What the hell is that?” Lydia asked, pointing at what he was holding.

“It's off Lavender...she can't...she can't expect me to wear it, can she?”

It was a golden chain with the words, ‘my sweetheart,’ attached to it in big bold letters. Tears streamed down Harry and Fred’s faces as they fell to the ground, still laughing. Ginny gave Ron what might have been a sympathetic look if it weren't for the fact that tears of laughter were rolling down her own face.

“Wait till Hermione see’s that,” George muttered to Lydia.

“If he'd have just gone to that Christmas party together, he wouldn't be in this mess,”

“Wouldn't be nearly as amusing though, would it?”

Christmas dinner was cheerful. Mrs Weasley, as always, cooked a feast to rival that of the Hogwarts Christmas food. Lydia cheerfully ate her way through the mountain of food that was put before her and listened into the conversations that took place around her. Remus and Bill were discussing Goblin rights whilst Fred and George were in fits of laughter over a story that James was telling (“-and then, Moony goes, “oh no, I read the spell wrong,” and then Sirius came running back over to us but he wasn't Sirius because he'd transfigured himself into a Hippogriff and not Snape!”). Mrs Weasley was talking to Harry about his NEWTs (“honestly, dear, if you just buckle down you’ll be absolutely fine,”) and Ginny was teasing Ron about his necklace (“I think you should wear it first day back to school. There's no way people will bully you about it!”).

“Arthur!” Mrs Weasley said suddenly, “Arthur! It's Percy!”

Mr Weasley looked round. Everybody very quickly turned to look out the window. Mrs Weasley was right - Percy Weasley was walking across the snowy yard. Even stranger, he was not alone for the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour,   
was walking next to him.

“Arthur! He's with the Minister!” Though no one needed telling.

There was a painful silence as the back door opened and Percy stood in the doorway. No one looked at each other. Them, rather stiffly, Percy said, “Merry Christmas, Mother,” Mrs Weasley burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” Rufus Scrimgeour said, pausing in the doorway, “But Percy and I were in the vicinity and he was quite insistent that we dropped in on you all,”

Lydia glanced at Percy and couldn't help but think that this couldn't be further from the truth. He was stood very straight, as though he wasn't in his own home, and there was a muscle twitching in his jaw. Mrs Weasley beamed at him but Fred, George and Mr Weasley maintained a stony face as they looked at him.

“We won't be here long, Molly,” Scrimgeour said, “I’ll have a stroll around the yard whilst ou catch up...well, if anyone would like to show me round your charming garden...ah, what about these two, here? They seemed to have finished,” He pointed at Lydia and Harry who glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. No one bought this for Lydia still had some food left on her plate and George, Ginny and Ron had also finished their plates of food.

“Sit down,” Lydia hissed at George who had half risen out of his seat.

“It's fine,” Harry said to Lupin and James who had also stood up. “Fine,” he added to Mr Weasley who had moved towards the door.

Neither of them were fooled. There was no way that Percy had actually wanted to come and see his family. Scrimgeour was just using him as a cover so that he could speak to Lydia and Harry alone. They walked across the yard towards the Weasley’s garden. Lydia looked at the floor and tried not to focus on how cold she was.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you both for a very long time,” Scrimgeour said after a while, “Did you know that?”

“No,” said Harry.

“Dumbledore has been very protective of the two of you. Natural, of course, after what you've been through...especially at the Ministry,”

Harry didn't say anything and neither did Lydia, so he carried on. “I have been hoping for an occasion to speak you ever since I gained office, but Dumbledore has prevented this,”

Still, neither of them said anything.

“The rumours have flown around!” Scrimgeour said, “Well, of course, we both know how these stories get distorted...all these whispers of a prophecy...of you being the “Chosen Ones”...”

Lydia pulled the sleeves of her jumper over her hands. They were getting close to what Scrimgeour had really wanted to say to them.

“...I assume you have discussed with Dumbledore?”

“Yeah, we’ve discussed it,” Harry said. Lydia didn't say anything.

“Have you, have you...” Scrimgeour said, “And what has Dumbledore told you?”

“Sorry, but that's between us,”

Scrimgeour turned to Lydia, “Have you discussed anything with Dumbledore?”

“We once discussed whether or not a vanishing spell would work on Lord Voldemort,” Lydia said lightly.

Scrimgeour frowned at her.

“Of course, it is a question of confidence...but, does it really matter whether you are the Chosen Ones or not?”

“I don't really know what you mean, Minister,” Harry said.

“Well, of course, you two it will matter enormously. But to the wizarding community at large, it's all perception, isn't it? It's what people believe that's important,”

Lydia didn't say anything and instead became very distracted by two gnomes that were having a fight.

“People do believe that you are the Chosen Ones. They think you both heroes - and there's no denying that you are, of course. How many time have you faced He Who Must Not Be Named and survived? It's a good morale booster, you see. And I can't help but feel that, once you realise this, you might want to publicly stand alongside the Ministry,”

“So basically, you'd like to give the impression that we’re working for the Ministry?” Lydia asked.

“It would give everyone a lift to see that you were more involved,”

“I think we’ve been involved more than enough, actually,” Lydia said coldly.

“It would give everyone a lift,” Scrimgeour persisted.

“But if we keep on running in and out of the Ministry, it will look like we agree with what you're doing,” Harry said.

“Well, that is what we would like-”

“But we don't agree with what you're doing,” Lydia interrupted.

“You’re only sixteen, I wouldn't expect you to understand-”

“Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen and doesn't agree with anything you're doing,” Harry said, “Like locking up Stan Shunpike, for example,”

“I see,” Scrimgeour said, all warmth disappearing for his voice, “So, like your hero Dumbledore, you would like to distance yourself from the Ministry?”

“Can you blame us?” Harry asked scathingly, “After everything that happened last year?”

Lydia held her fist up to him, the words ‘I must not tell lies,’ shined white in the sun. Scrimgeour fixed her a cold, hard stare.

“Where were you last year when then Ministry were going out of there way to discredit us? Where were you when Dolores Umbridge forced us to carve these words into our own flesh? What were you doing, Minister?” Lydia asked.

“Some would say it is your duty to stand by the Ministry,” Scrimgeour said.

“Our duty to be used?” Harry said, “That's what you'd love, isn't it? Just to have the Chosen Ones working for you! You don't really care about anything else!”

“What is Dumbledore up to, when he’s absent from Hogwarts?” Scrimgeour asked suddenly.

“No idea,” Harry said, “But I wouldn't try and find out. Fudge tried to interfere at Hogwarts and you’ll notice that Fudge isn't Minister anymore, but Dumbledore is still Headmaster. I'd leave him alone, if I were you,”

There was a long pause.

“Well, it is clear that he has done a good job on you. You're Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?”

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said, “Glad we straightened that out,”

“What about you?” Scrimgeour asked Lydia.

“I stand by my brother, Minister, through anything.”

And turning their backs on the Minister for Magic, they strode back to the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying this! 
> 
> College has just started up again for me and I work a lot so I don't know how much I'll be able to update, but I will try my best! 
> 
> -E.


	10. Chasing The Lion

Lydia and Harry sat on the stone steps of the Entrance Hall, wrapped up in their cloaks and scarves. He was pouring over that potions book. Lydia glanced at it and frowned. There was something weirdly familiar about that handwriting but she couldn't quite work out why. She decided not to spend her time worrying about it - it hadn't hurt anyone and she was sure that Hermione would figure out who it used to belong to before long. 

“All the Weasleys have great hair,” Lydia said, as Ginny walked past with Dean.

“What?” Harry asked.

“All the Weasleys have great hair. Have you noticed?” 

“No...”

“Next time you see Ron, look at his hair.” Lydia told him, “It might just change your life,” 

“Are you trying to set me up with Ron?”

“No!” She said quickly, “I'm just saying...” She glanced at her brother, “but you’re single, right? If you're looking for someone with great hair-”

“I'm not going to go out with a Weasley!” 

“You say that like its a bad thing - also, there's more than enough to go around,” she added, “I mean sure, Bill and Fleur are going to get married and Percy probably wouldn't even want to look at you-”

“I'm also quite sure he's straight,” 

“There's always Charlie or Fred,” she said, “Although, it might be a weird if you went out with Fred because George-”

“Also quite sure Fred is straight and Charlie would sooner marry a dragon than a human,” Harry pointed out, “It's a bit sad, really, isn't it? I'm bisexual and single. There's twice the amount of people for me!” 

Lydia sniggered. 

“What about Oliver Wood? I always thought he was two Quidditch matches away from marrying you,” Lydia said, “Also, all the jokes you could make...” 

“Jokes?”

“Morning, Wood!” There was a moments silence in which Harry was working out the joke before he burst into laughter. 

“You stole that joke off George, didn't you?”

“Every funny thing I say is a joke I stole off George,” Lydia admitted, “But don't tell anyone. Everyone thinks I'm really funny,”

“No, they don't - oh, here we go,” 

Lydia looked up as Draco Malfoy popped out from behind the pillar. She frowned at him - had he been listening to their entire conversation? The look of horror on Harry's face told her that he was worried about the exact same thing. 

“Got Quidditch practice tonight, remember, Potty?” Malfoy said to her, a sneer creeping up onto his face. 

“Yes, Malfoy, I do,” She said stiffly. 

“Seems like you've both stopped arguing...guess the Wizarding World can relax now,” He continued. 

Harry glared at him, “What do you want, Malfoy?” 

“Wouldn't  _ you  _ like to know.  _ Bye,”  _ And he sauntered off. 

“Do you think that emphasis on the word ‘Bye,” meant something? Does he know?” Harry asked her. 

“He wouldn't say anything,” Lydia said quickly, “He knows not to. No one trusts him anymore because of his dad,” 

“Yeah...maybe,” 

 

\---

“Oi! Lydia!” 

She spotted Ron on the other side of the corridor. He shoved a fourth year out of the way and almost tripped up trying to getting her. He put on such a spectacle of trying to get from one side of the corridor to the other, that she couldn't help but stop and stare. 

“Aren't you going to be late for potions?” 

He glanced at his watch and shrugged. 

“I never wanted to take it in the first place, anyway,” he sighed, “Anyway, Dumbledore wants to speak to you-”

“Why?”

“I don't know. McGonagall told me to find you and tell you. He wants to speak to you now. She also said that he likes acid pops,” 

Lydia groaned. “Like now now?” 

“Actually about ten minutes ago but I got lost on the way to Arithmancy. I didn't know it was in this part of the castle,”

“You've been here six ye-oh never mind. I’ll see you later,” 

Lydia turned back around and walked to Dumbledore's office. The stone gargoyle that guarded her office seemed to glare down at her. She actually stood and glared back at it for a while until she remember that it was an inanimate object. 

“Acid pops,”

It jumped to life and Lydia hurried on it as it rose up to the Headmasters office. Lydia knocked on the door once and it swung open. Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, resting his chin on fingers in deep thought. Lydia lingered awkwardly by the door and tried to catch his eye, but he seemed quite unaware that she was stood in front of him. 

“Um, Professor?” 

His eyes flickered up to meet hers and he smiled. 

“Welcome, Lydia. Do sit down,” He gestured to the chair, “How are you? I hope I've not pulled you away from something important,” 

“Oh, no, Professor. I had an extra Ancient Runes class but it's fine, I'll tell Professor Babbling where I was,” 

“I feel that I haven't really seen anything of you this year. I never see you in the Great Hall,” 

“I take a lot of classes, Professor,” Lydia shrugged, “It's hard to balance by time between work, Quidditch and prefect duties, but I think I'm doing OK,”

Dumbledore nodded.

“You are a fantastic Quidditch player, Lydia. Why did it take so long for you to try out?” 

Lydia shrugged. “I don't know. I guess I never thought about it and it was always Harry's thing, anyway,” 

“And you and Harry, are you still close?” Dumbledore asked slowly. 

“Yes, Professor. More than ever,” 

He smiled at her. “I'm very glad to hear that, Lydia. Family is the most important thing we have,” He cleared his throat, “Another thing, I wanted to talk to you about - you are now nearing the end of your time at Hogwarts, have you thought about what you want to do once you leave?” 

She was slightly taken aback. 

“I don't know, really. I haven't thought about it,”

“I thought it was your ambition to be an Auror?” 

Lydia stopped herself from snapping at him. “No, Professor. It used to be but I know longer wish to do that,” 

“My apologies,” he said, “I briefly forgot our conversation at the end of last year,” he smiled at her again, “There's something else I would like to ask you, Lydia - are you happy, at school, Lydia?” 

As always, Lydia felt as though Dumbledore knew more than he let on. 

“Things are different this year, Professor,” she said truthfully, “But, I think I am, yes,”

He nodded again. 

“I just wanted to catch up with you. I have seen so much of your brother and so little of you. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can come and speak to me. Enjoy the rest of your school year, Lydia,” 

“Thank-you, Professor,”

 

\---

Slytherin were set to play Hufflepuff that weekend and Lydia was much more excited about this match than the last. For one thing, she was actually talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione again and they had put their Gryffindor pride aside to support Slytherin. Lydia almost burst into tears when Lydia walked into the Great Hall on Saturday morning and found the three of them with Slytherin colours painted onto their cheeks and wearing Slytherin scarves. Neville and Luna were also wearing Slytherin colours.

Even better, George had also been able to get away from work to come and see her play. He surprised her just before she walked into the changing rooms, prompting Malfoy to roll his eyes and Zabini to nearly curse them both. 

“Good luck,” he said, winking. “Fred's saved me a seat in the stands,” he kissed her and walked away. 

“If you get distracted by your boyfriend and lose this game, I’m going to be really pissed off,” Urquhart muttered darkly. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “If we lose, it'll be your fault. You’re the Captain,”

They walked out onto the pitch to raucous cheers. Lydia looked up at the stands and her heart skipped a beat for she could quite distinctly see Professor Dumbledore sat next to Professor Slughorn. As far as Lydia could remember, the last time Dumbledore had come to a Quidditch match was during the final match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw when Gryffindor had won the cup for the first time in years. She felt as though the conversation they had had in his office that week might have been the reason for him attending. 

James blew his whistle and they kicked off the ground. Lydia veered out of the way as one of the Hufflepuff Beater hit a Bludger towards her. Urquhart chucked the Quaffle towards her and she caught it, zooming off down the pitch. Zabini caught up towards her and she reversed passed to him quickly. So quickly, in fact, that the Hufflepuff Beaters didn't realise that she didn't have the Quaffle anymore and focused all their attention on her - allowing Zabini to score. 

Hufflepuff were back in possession and Lydia intercepted one of their passes. She shot off down the pitch, weaving in and out of players. The Hufflepuff keeper drew closer and the Quaffle soared through the middle hoop. 

“Nice one, Potter!” Urquhart yelled as she flew past him.

She glanced over at the stands and she could see George jumping up an down and clapping. For the second time that day, she could have started crying out of sheer happiness.

From then on, the game carried on in Slytherins favour and it was the best game the team had had in awhile. They won 250-50 and Malfoy actually carried off a quite spectacular save. Even Lydia felt the need to go over to him and congratulate him as they landed on the ground. 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, Luna and Neville were waiting outside the changing room for her and all burst into applause when she came out. James hurried over to her and hugged her, shouting about how proud he was of her. She felt herself go bright red and the rest of the team rolled their eyes when they came out after her. Though, there was quite a tense moment in which Malfoy and Harry stood staring at each other before Malfoy swore at them all and stormed off. 

“Weirdo,” Fred muttered, “What's his problem?” 

“Many, many things,” Ron said, watching him go, but then he brightened and turned to Lydia, “But that was an amazing match! You're third goal actually made me cry a bit,” he hugged her but they were torn apart by a horrified scream; Lavender was stood just feet away from them, staring at the two of them. 

“RON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” She yelled. 

“Wait! Lavender! No! She's just my friend! It's not-”

“HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I JUST HUGGED SEAMUS?” 

“Can I just point out that my  _ boyfriend  _ is stood there and he's-” but Lydia's words were drowned out by Lavender bursting into tears and running off. She glanced at Ron who hung his head, “Sorry, mate, I tried..” 

George clapped him on the back, “Would it make you feel better if I started crying?”

“No, fuck off,” and he ran after Lavender. 

Hermione looked thrilled. 

Fred and George had to leave to go back to the shop. When Lydia walked back up to the castle, she felt a lot happier than she had in awhile. She almost felt like she did in fourth year before her and Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. It was almost as if she didn't have a care in the world - for the first time, perhaps ever, she felt like a normal teenager. 

“I feel like I haven't seen you all year,” Neville said, falling into step with her.

“I know,” she sighed, “it's been a weird couple of months, Neville.” 

He nodded, “I know, I know,” He shrugged, “But we’ve got to keep fighting, haven't we?” 

Lydia frowned at him. “What do you mean?” 

He shrugged again. 

“I don't know, it's something I've been thinking about a lot ever since the Ministry. Ever since I saw Bellatrix Lestrange and she said all those things about my parents...I knew I had to keep on fighting, for my parents, you know?” He said, “They fought for me and now I'm gonna do the same thing for them. When you and Harry started the DA, I kind of knew that we'd have to fight and what happened at the Ministry just solidified that fo me,” 

“You know, you're completely different to the Neville I met in first year,”

“You say that like you're not completely different to the Lydia I met in first year,”

“Remember when you were scared of me?” 

“Everyone was scared of you,” 

They arrived in the Entrance Hall and Lydia, who had a lot of work to do, went back to her dormitory, picked up her work and made her way up to the library. Suddenly, someone grabbed the back of her robes and pulled her backwards, shoving her behind one of the tapestries that concealed a secret passageway. Panicked, Lydia plunged her hand into her robes and took her wand out, pointing it blindly. 

“Oh, get over yourself, I'm not going to curse you,” 

“Malfoy?” Lydia said in disbelief, “What in the name of Merlin are you doing?”

“You never told me your brother was into blokes,”

“My brother is -what?” Lydia said quickly, “I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy,” 

He rolled his eyes. “Don't play stupid, Potter, I heard you talking about it!” 

“Why should I have told you about it, anyway?” She snapped, “I wasn't aware it was any of your business,”

“Because you know I like him!” He hissed at her. 

“Yeah, I do know that, but I also know that he doesn't like you!” She snapped, “You've been a dickhead since first year!” 

“I know, but I'm trying!” He said, “I...there's a lot going on...I don't know how...”

“I can't help you with that,” she snapped and she shoved past him, “but maybe you could start by trying to be a good person!” 

“Potter - wait!” 

“No, Malfoy! Seriously, you've been a dick to us and our friends since first year! Think about all those horrible things you said about the Weasleys! And that god awful song you wrote about Ron last year!”

He looked offended for a moment but then he stormed off. It was only when she finally sat down in the library and she opened her Charms book that she realised how ill Malfoy was looking these days. She suddenly felt quite bad for the way she had treated him but then remembered how much of a dick he was and shoved him from her mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the Drarry begins! (Kind of). 
> 
> Thank-you for reading. 
> 
> -E.


	11. A Bad Birthday

Lydia was sat in her usual seat in the Slytherin common room. It was Ron's Birthday and she was trying to get some work done before she went to find him to give him his present before Lavender took over for the day. Fabio rolled around on her lap whilst she filled in a number chart for Arithmancy that she was quite sure she was doing wrong. In fact, when she looked back over it, she had definitely gotten most of it wrong. 

Daphne Greengrass wandered over to her, looking quite troubled. “Uh...Lydia?”

“Mhmm?” 

“Hermione Granger is stood outside the common room. She's crying and is refusing to talk to anyone but you,” 

“Crying?” Lydia asked. 

“Quite a lot, actually,” 

“Watch my stuff!” Lydia said, scooping Fabio up and running out of the common room.

Hermione was pacing up and down outside, wringing her hands together. She looked quite frantic and Lydis almost didn't want to go and speak to her in case she snapped and tried to curse her.

“‘Mione? What's going on?” Lydia asked hesitantly. 

“It's Ron! He's been poisoned!” 

“He's been  _ what _ ?” Lydia asked, flabbergasted.

“Poisoned! By Professor Slughorn! That's what Harry said anyway,” She took a deep breath, “Professor Slughorn gave him so wine that was laced with poison and now he's in the hospital wing,”

“Is he OK?” Lydia asked. 

“Madam Pomfrey is with him,” she lurched forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her up to the Hospital Wing where Harry and Ginny were waiting. 

“What time is it?” Lydia asked. 

“Twelve O’Clock. I think we’ll be here for a while,” Harry sighed, he slid down the wall. 

At eight o’clock in the evening, Madam Pomfrey finally allowed them in. The hospital wing was quiet and Ron's was the only bed that was occupied. At ten past eight, Fred and George arrived. 

“So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?” Fred said. 

“And it's his seventeenth and everything,” Lydia sighed, looking at him. 

“This isn't how we imagined handing over our present,” said George grimly, putting a gift on the bedside table. 

“Yeah, when we pictured the scene, he was conscious,” said Fred. 

“There we were in Hogsmeade, waiting to surprise him,” said George, “Lydia even made time in her ‘feeling sorry for herself’ schedule to get him up there without Lavender,”

“There were Dungbombs involved. It was going to be amazing,” Lydia added. She glanced at her watch, “but, hey, still got time to feel sorry for myself,”

“You were in Hogsmeade?” Ginny asked, looking up. 

“Yeah, we were thinking of buying Zonko’s,” said Fred, “We thought we'd extend the business but there's no point now if you lot aren't allowed at the weekends,” He sighed, “Probably great for Lydia though, it means she doesn't have to see George all the time,” 

“Shut up,” George said. 

Fred drew up a chair beside Harry. “So, how exactly did it happen?” 

Harry retold the story again. Lydia could tell that he was getting fed up of telling it over and over again, but she found it very interesting - why on earth did Professor Slughorn have a bottle of wine with poison in it?

“They reckon he’ll be alright though,” Harry said, “Madam Pomfrey says he'll have to stay here for a week or so and keep taking Essence of Rue,” 

“Blimey, it's lucky you thought of a bezoar,” said George in a low voice. 

“Lucky there was one in the room,” Harry muttered. 

Lydia shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if Harry had been unable to find one. Next to her, Hermione gave a little sniff. Lydia sighed and held her hand. Hermione had been exceptionally quiet all day and Lydia knew why - she was feeling guilty about the fact that Ron had been poisoned when they weren't speaking. They had put on a united front for Lydia during the Hufflepuff and Slytherin game, but since then he and Hermione hadn't been talking. If the worst were to happen, Lydia wasn't sure that Hermione would ever be able to forgive herself. 

“Do Mum and Dad know?” Fred asked Ginny. 

“They've already seen him, they were here like an hour ago. They're with Dumbledore now, I think,” 

There was a pause while they all watched as Ron mumbled a little bit in his sleep.

“So the poison was in the drink?” said Fred quietly. 

“Yes,” said Harry at once, “Slughorn poured it out-”

“Do you think there was a chance Slughorn could have slipped something in the drink?” 

“Probably,” said Harry, “but why would Slughorn want to poison Ron?” 

“No idea,” said Fred, frowning, “You don't think he could have mixed up the glasses by mistake? Meaning to get you?” 

“Why would Slughorn want to poison Harry?” asked Ginny. 

“I dunno,” said Fred, “but there must be loads of people who want to poison these two, right?” He pointed at Lydia and Harry.

“I can think of one person who would definitely like to kill us but he's not very good at it,” Lydia muttered, “Been trying his best since we were one,” 

“So you think Slughorn is a Death Eater?” Asked Ginny. 

“Any things possible,” Fred said darkly. 

“He could be under the Imperius Curse...” George said.

“Or he could be innocent,” Lydia said, “The poison could have been for him,”

“Who'd want to kill Slughorn?” George asked.

“Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side,” said Harry, “He was in hiding last year.  Maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way because he could be valuable to Dumbledore,” 

“But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas,” Ginny reminded him, “So the poisoner could have been after Dumbledore,” 

“Well, the poisoner obviously didn't know Slughorn very well,” said Hermione, speaking for the first time in hours and sounding as though she had a bad head-cold, “Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd have kept something that tasty for himself,”

“Maybe it’s just one of life’s unanswered questions. Kind of like who’s everyone’s favourite Weasley is,” Fred said. 

“Mines Errol,” Harry said at once.

“Mines your mums second cousin who’s an accountant,” Lydia said thoughtfully. 

“Er-my-nee,” croaked Ron, taking them all by surprise. 

They all fell silent and watched him anxiously. He muttered incomprehensibly for a moment for a moment he began to snore. The dormitory doors flew open, making them all jump and Hagrid came striding towards them. 

“Bin in the forest all day!” He panted, “Professor Sprout jus’ told me abou’ Ron! How is he?” 

“He's fine,” Lydia assured him, “Madam Pomfrey says he'll be OK,”

“I don’ believe this,” said Hagrid hoarsely, “Jus’ don’ believe it...look at him lyin’ there...who'd want ter hurt him, eh?”

“We don't know,” George said, “That's what we’ve been trying to work out,” 

“Someone couldn’ have a grudge against the Gryffindor Quidditch team, could they?” Hagrid asked anxiously. Everyone turned to look at Lydia. 

“Not everything is Slytherins fault!” She said, “ _ Also,”  _ she added furiously, “when I was asked to be a part of the Slytherin Quidditch team, I threatened to snap everyone's brooms if they tried anything against you lot and I cursed Urquhart after the first match of the season because he said something vaguely mean about Harry,”

Harry looked touched and Fred looked mildly impressed. “I think you just like excuses to threaten people,”

“Probably,” Lydia admitted. 

“Still, Katie was also attacked...and they're both on the Gryffindor team. They could have gone behind your back,” Ginny pointed out. She took Fabio in her hands and began to stroke him, “I mean, you're not exactly the best of friends with the Slytherins, are you?”

“They won't have done,” Lydia said confidently, “Because the first time I threatened Urquhart he actually squealed - do you know how hard it is to make a 6’2 seventh year  _ squeal _ ?” 

‘I don't think it's Quidditch, but there is a connection between the attacks,” Hermione said quietly. 

“How'd you work that one out?” Fred asked. 

“Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren't, although that was pure luck. And for another, neither the poison nor the necklace seemed to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed,”

Before anyone could answer, the doors opened again and Mr and Mrs Weasley hurried up the ward. Mrs Weasley hugged Harry and thanked him for saving so many members of the Weasley family.

“Oh, Harry...first Ginny, then Arthur and now Ron!” She sobbed, “What would we do without you?” 

“I'm waiting for Harry to be my Knight in shining armour,” Fred sighed, fluttering his eyelashes at Harry and resting his head on his shoulder. 

Lydia gave Harry a very knowing look and mouthed, ‘Great hair,”. Harry rolled his eyes and mouthed, “fuck off,” back. George gave them both a funny look but didn't say anything. Lydia felt that she might get asked awkward questions later but would manage to worm herself out of it, as always.

Madam Pomfrey came back into the dormitory and told them that they were only allowed to have six visitors at a time. At once, Harry, Lydia and Hermione rose from their seats and bid goodbye to the others. Hagrid came with them too, still shaking his head and muttering about who on earth would want to kill Ron. Lydia couldn't help but think the same thing. 

“It's terrible,” he growled, “All this security an’ kids are gettin’ hurt still...Dumbledore's really worried, yer know,” 

“Doesn't he have any idea?” Lydia asked anxiously. 

“I ‘spect he’s got hundreds of ideas, brain like his,” said Hagrid, “but he doesn’ know who sent that necklace or the poison in the wine. Wha’ worries me...” Hagrid said, lowering his voice, “is how long Hogwarts can stay open if kids are bein’ attacked. Chamber o’ Secrets all over again, isn't it? Board o’ governors’ll be talkin’ about shutting us up again,” 

They reached the Entrance Hall and Lydia waved goodbye to them, walking down to the dungeons, her mind racing. She wasn't paying any attention to where she was going and bumped into Professor Snape.

“It's almost midnight, Potter,” he snarled, “What are you still doing out of bed?”

“Sorry, Professor, but it's because of Ron. He's in the Hospital Wing,” she quickly explained. 

“Well, be on your way, Potter or I shall put you in detention,”

Lydia was quite thankful to get back to the common room. She dropped back into the seat she had been before she had left. It took her a moment to realise that Daphne was still there and all her work had been untouched. Lydia jerked up, almost knocking Fabio off her lap. 

“You’re still here,” she said stupidly. 

Daphne yawned and nodded. “Yeah, it gave me a reason to not go to Hogsmeade with Pansy. Also I got a lot of work done - is everything OK? I heard someone say something about Professor Slughorn poisoning Ron Weasley,” 

_ “Accidentally  _ poisoning Ron Weasley. I don’t think he did it on purpose,” Lydia said, “he’s not the best potions maker but he’s not so bad that he’d poison him - anyway, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you later, Daphne. Night.” 

—-

Lydia ran through down the corridor, she was late to watch the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff match. She hadn’t even had time to paint her cheeks with Gryffindor colours and felt terrible about it. She jumped down the last steps of the marble staircase and ran through the Entrance Hall, hoping a teacher wouldn’t shout at her to stop running. 

Someone grabbed the back of her jumper and shoved her into a broom cupboard. Her back hit the wall too quickly and the breath rushed out of her lungs. She looked around and realised how small the cupboard was. Too small, in fact. Suddenly, she was eight years old again and Uncle Vernon was shoving her in the cupboard for asking a question about her maths homework. 

In her panic, she lashed out and her fist found contact with someone’s nose. Someone yelled out and they toppled backwards out of the cupboard. There was confusion for a moment, and then Lydia came to the horrific realisation that she was straddling Draco Malfoy. The stared at each other in silence for a moment and then the both screamed. Malfoy hit her in the side and she toppled off him. She scrambled up, her wand drawn and he had done the same. 

“What was that for?” He bellowed. 

“You can’t just shove someone in a broomstick cupboard!” She yelled.

“I didn’t  _ shove  _ you,” he snapped. 

“It might not have seemed like it but when you’ve lived in a cupboard under the the stairs-“

“When you’ve lived where?” He asked, lowering his wand. 

“You know what? Just fuck off Malfoy! I don’t need to tell you about my depressing childhood!” She said, shoving her wand back in her jeans, “I don’t even need to talk to you! I don’t know why I’ve been so nice to you this year but I’m sick of it! Just fuck off!” 

She barged past him, furiously wiping her eyes. She  _ hated  _ crying in front of people, and Draco Malfoy was no exception to that rule. Knowing that it would be deserted except for Madam Prince, Lydia ran into the library and headed for the most secluded corner at the back. Her heart was still racing and she had to remind herself how big the library actually was. 

That was the first time a small space had brought on a panic attack. It happened more often than she would like to admit. The first time it had happened was during third year when Professor Lupin had put together the most extravagant final exam ever and Lydia had faced the Boggart in the cabinet at the end. At first, she had thought that it had been defeated by the people who had gone before her, but then the walls started closing in on her and she only just managed to cast  _ Riddikulus.  _ She had burst out the other end, gasping and shivering the despite the sun shining bright above them. 

“Lydia!” Lupin asked, running forward, “you did it! What’s wrong?” 

“Small space!” She gasped, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t - I thought I was back in the cupboard,” 

The most embarrassing time it had happened was when -mid snog - Lydia had realised how small the cupboard she and George were in was and she actually screamed in his face. He had then screamed in her first and she was so embarrassed by the entire thing that she avoided him for a week before breaking down in front of him and apologising for something that wasn’t her fault. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She said when he found her on the edge of the lake, “it’s just embarrassing!”

“It’s not embarrassing-“

“Have you ever had a panic attack halfway through kissing someone?” 

“Well, no, but that doesn’t make it embarrassing!”

Lydia groaned and put her face in her hands, shaking her head. George reached out and gently moved her hands from her face. 

“Tell me,” he said gently. 

“The Dursley’s made me and Harry sleep in the cupboard under the stairs when we were younger,” she said, unable to meet his eyes, “And now whenever I’m tight spaces...”

“Oh, Lydia,” He whispered, “you should have said!” He moved closer to her and hugged her, “why’ve you never mentioned it before?” 

“It’s a hard thing to bring up...” she muttered. 

“Ah, well, don’t worry about it - I’m sure we’ll manage to find somewhere else to kiss,” He said, “there’s a really big tree over there that we could definitely hide behind...”

Still, having a panic attack in front of Draco Malfoy was probably more embarrassing than having a panic attack in front of the Dark Lord himself. At least it’d be over quicker for the simple fact that he’d probably kill her as soon as possible.

She picked up the first book she found and opened it at a random page so that when Madam Pince came prowling, she wouldn’t throw her out. As she pretended to read, she thought that, perhaps, she should look into having therapy. But then she remembered that that would mean opening up to someone who she barely knew and quickly squashed the idea. Maybe she’d just write to George...

“Miss Potter?” Madam Pince walked over to her, “Madam Pomfrey just sent me a note...your brother has been injured in the Quidditch match,” When Lydia pulled herself off the floor, Pince quickly held her hand up. “You’ll have to wait to see him tomorrow, though. He’s still unconscious and seeing him would be a waste of your time. She said you can go tomorrow at half past twelve,”

At half past twelve the next day, Lydia ran to the Hospital Wing and burst through the doors, but she wasn’t the only visitor. Dobby and Kreacher the House Elves were stood next to Harry’s bed. Lydia froze at the foot of Harry’s bed, staring at him. 

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Oh, hi, I’m getting Dobby and Kreacher to tail Draco Malfoy,” He said like this was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Why?” 

“He’s obsessed with him!” Ron said from the bed next to him, “all he ever talks about!”

Lydia frowned at Harry. 

“I think he’s a Death Eater and I’m determined to prove it!” Harry snapped, he turned back to the House Elves, “stick to him like a couple of wart plasters,” the two elves bowed deeply and disappeared. 

“Seriously?” She said, “you’re still convinced he’s a Death Eater?”

“So convinced that he was almost late to the Quidditch match yesterday!” Ron said. He glanced at Harry who was glaring at him, “sorry - just catching her up,” 

“You can’t deny there’s something strange about him! And I keep on catching him staring at me!” 

Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Why do you always insist on finding at at least one plan to murder you every year?”

“I don’t insist on finding a murder plan, there just usually is one!” Harry said, “even you can’t deny that! And Dumbledore always says-“

“I really don’t care what Dumbledore says,” Lydia snapped. 

“If you came to these meetings-“

“I’d be in an even worse mood than I already am,” she said.

“And that’s the last thing we need,” Harry muttered.

“Oh, whatever, Harry, I’m going to find Hermione. See you later,” and she stormed out of the Hospital Wing.

As she thundered down the corridor, she walked past James who’s smile dropped off his face when he saw the look on Lydia’s. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been arguing again,” he said, a warning tone in his voice. 

“Talk to him about it. I have a headache,”

“So does Harry, he has a cracked skull,” James pointed out.

“Yes, well, I’ve had a long week. I’m going to nap,” and she walked off, feeling worse and worse. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading and all the kudos! 
> 
> I’m a bit ill at the moment so if this chapter made no sense, it’s because I’ve been coughing every 2.4 seconds.
> 
> Anyway, hope you’re still enjoying! 
> 
> -E.


	12. The Tie Incident

During her time as Slytherin prefect, Lydia had come across very strange things; people crying, people duelling, people snogging, cats mating and owls fighting were just some of the strange things a prefect was bound to come across. None of these things were ever nice sights or anything Lydia liked to find at midnight when she herself was tired and wanted to be curled up in bed, but they were always unavoidable.

The strangest thing that she came across was Ginny Weasley sat in a stairwell near the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, crying. Lydia heard the sounds of sobbing from halfway down the corridor and, just because she was so nosy, she followed the sound up into the stairwell and froze. If she had found anyone else crying, she probably would have sat next to them and asked them what was wrong, but this time it was different because Ginny Weasley never cried. Lydia was quite sure that in all the time she had known her, she had only seen her cry once at that was in the Chamber of Secrets. For the first time in her life, Lydia wished that she was back in the Chamber of Secrets because at least then she would be distracted by the great big snake trying to kill her.

“Ginny?” Lydia said hesitantly, “Uh..what are you doing? I hate to be that person but...it's past curfew,”

Ginny looked up at her and wiped her eyes.

“When have you ever cared about being up past curfew?”

“Well, I'm a prefect. These are things I care about,”

“When have you cared about being a prefect?”

Lydia stared at her.

“Good point,” she said. She was silent for a moment and then said, “Why are you crying? What's wrong?” Lydia carefully sat on a step a few steps below the one that Ginny was sat.

Just as Ginny opened her mouth to speak, they heard footsteps drawing closer and closer to them. Lydia's first thought was Professor Snape and she tried to think of a good enough excuse as to why she and Ginny were out of bounds. But it ended up being Hermione, looking quite confused.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, “Lydia, aren't you meant to be doing prefect duty?”

“This is part of my prefect duty,” Lydia said.

Hermione then noticed Ginny crying and she shot up the stairs and sat next to Lydia. “What's going on? Is it you and Dean?”

Ginny nodded, “We broke up. I don't even know why I'm crying. It was never anything serious, anyway and he was still hung up on Seamus...”

“What did happen between them, anyway?” Lydia asked.

“Seamus freaked out at the end of last year because he remembered what his mum thought about same sex relationships,” Hermione sighed, “And then told Dean everything between them had been an accident,”

“I really I am out of the loop....” Lydia muttered.

“So I was just a rebound. And I knew that!” She added angrily. Then she laughed, “Merlin, imagine being a rebound,”

“There's nothing wrong with being a rebound,” Lydia said, “I'm ninety percent sure that I was a rebound after George went out with that...what's her face...Emily something or other in Ravenclaw?”

“You weren't a rebound - he went on one date with her, realised how horrible she was and then spent the next two months trying to work out how to ask you out but you were too distracted with Dragons,” Ginny said, “you were all he spoke about. Still are, actually,”

“Oh,” Lydia said, quite touched, “Well, my point still stands-”

“You’ll find someone, Ginny. You're too funny and pretty not to,” Hermione said gently.

“And you have great hair,” Lydia added. Noticing the funny looks Hermione and Ginny gave her she quickly added, “I just...all the Weasley’s have great hair!”

“I’m not even going to comment,” Hermione muttered.

Half an hour later, they heard the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom door opened and they bolted. They ran all the way to the Room of Requirement where they were sure Snape was nowhere near them. Lydia doubled over, clutching a stitch in her side as Ginny burst into laughter. Hermione was gripping onto Lydia's shoulder and very much reminded her of the Hermione she knew in first year who was very afraid of breaking rules.

“What are you three doing?”

Lydia looked up and noticed, for the first time, Draco Malfoy. He was stood outside the Room of Requirement and looked rather like a deer in headlights. Hermione still hadn't let go of Lydia's shoulders and, if anything, was gripping hold of her tighter.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked, “You don't have prefect duty tonight,”

“Neither does Weaselette, here,” Malfoy said, jerking his head at her.

“Yes, but she's with us. You shouldn't be here,” Hermione snapped. Then she looked up at the wall that concealed the Room of Requirement and narrowed her eyes, “Why are you trying to get in there?”

“I'm forming an underground rebellion group against Professor Dumbledore,” Malfoy said drily, “Would you like to join? It's called Snape’s Army,”

“No,” Lydia said, “We’re part of a group called the Headmastrial Squad put together by Professor Dumbledore. We’re a special group of handpicked students that have the power to do things that normal students can't. For example, when I tell you to fuck off, you have to fuck off by law,”

Hermione and Ginny both laughed. Malfoy's cheeks went red and he drew his wand. Immediately, Lydia had hers out. At once, Hermione planted herself in front of Lydia and forced her wand down and shoved her backwards.

“Are you actively trying to lose your prefect badge?” She hissed.

“No, I'm actively trying to curse Malfoy and you're making it very difficult,” Lydia said, trying to aim her wand over Hermione, “Hey, could you bend down slightly, I can't quite see him,”

“Lydia!” Hermione snapped, yanking her wand out of her hand, “No! I cannot do that! Come on, we’re leaving,”

“When we get back to the common room, I might curse him,” Lydia said to Hermione as Ginny snorted.

“Well, even I can't stop you there,” Hermione said grimly, “Although, I really think you curse too many people,”

“If you were in Slytherin, you'd understand!”

When Ginny went to bed, Lydia turned to Hermione.

“So, how's life been?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I know you and Harry had another argument,”

“Is this the part where you shout at me?”

“No, because I think he's stupid for having Dobby and Kreacher to chase after Malfoy,” she admitted, “However, arguing with him isn't going to solve anything. You know he's going through a lot,”

“Sometimes I feel like people forget that I am also going through a lot,” Lydia said through gritted teeth.

“Because you never talk to us. It's hard to be supportive when we don't know what we’re supporting you through,” Hermione shook her head, “But that's not the point. The point is, is that you need each other. You're all he's had his entire life and he's all you've had his entire life. And the fact that you're not talking isn't helping either of you,”

“I know but-”

“It's natural to disagree on things,” Hermione continued calmly, “But you shouldn't stop talking for months every time you have a disagreement. I think it would do you both the world of good if you sat down and caught up on everything, including what Harry talks about with Dumbledore because you're missing out on important information,”

“Yeah, but sometimes I just want to talk about normal teenager stuff. Like how awful Ron and Lavender are and-”

“They've broken up,” Hermione said, a slight smile on her face.

“Oh...well...tell me everything,”

—

Lydia braved the Great Hall the next day. She was slowly but surely easing herself back into spending time there again. She sat at the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione and discussed the homework that Professor Snape had set them the previous lesson. He expected them to learn five new non-verbal spells in a week. Hermione had learned two, Ron had learned one and Lydia hadn't even looked at the list of spells he had given her. She was hoping for a random burst of talent in which she would be able to pull them off at last minute. Hermione tutted at this but didn't argue with her.

"Oh, you’ll be fine. Hey, there’s Harry - wait," Ron said, "Is he-“

Lydia looked up and screamed. Harry was wearing a Slytherin tie and there was a suspicious mark on his neck. Before anyone saw, she dived over the table and launched herself at him. She crashed into him and he staggered backwards out of the Great Hall. She didn’t even think about the fact that this was the first time they’d spoke since they’d argued in the Hospital Wing.

"What are you doing?" He asked furiously.

"Your tie, you dickhead!" She snapped, "Why are you wearing a Slytherin tie?"

He blushed suddenly. "No reason!"

She narrowed his eyes him. "Harry James Potter, don't you dare lie to me. Why are you wearing a Slytherin tie?"

"I must have gotten it mixed up with one of yours,"

"How does that work? My ties stay in my dormitory and your ties stay in yours!"

The door of the dungeons opened and Draco Malfoy walked out. He wasn't wearing a tie, but holding a Gryffindor one. He glanced at Lydia and then at Harry who, if possible, had gone even more red.

"Potter, I believe you have my tie,"

As quick as a flash, Harry had taken the green tie off and given it to Malfoy who was supremely calm.

"If you want to get that thing off the side of your neck, ask your sister. When Weasley was still at school she usually came back to the common room looking like that," he smirked, "unless you want to wear it like a badge of honour," He winked at Harry who looked like he was going to collapse and then walked into the Great Hall.

"When I told you I was bisexual, you said you'd support me through anything-"

"I know," Lydia said quickly, "I know,"

Silence fell between them.

"So, anyway, this spell..." He gestured to his neck.

"Oh, yeah-" she took her wand out and muttered the spell, "Also, I didn't come back to the common everyday-"

"Sure you didn't,"

"It was actually a rare occurrence,"

"Mhmm,"

"Yeah, well, at least I didn't spend the night with Draco bloody Malfoy,"

"Shush! Not so loud!" He looked around.

“You’re such a hypocrite,” she muttered, “Who’d have thought that Harry bloody Potter would stop suspecting someone to be a Death Eater if they were a good snog. Let’s hope no one tells Voldemort or he’ll be coming onto us next,”

Harry laughed, “That’s nightmare inducing.” He looked around, "I'm going to tell Ron and Hermione tonight,"

"About...your ferret?"

"No! About the bi thing," He said, "Will you be there?"

"Of course,"

That evening, they found an empty classroom to sit in under the guise of 'revision' although none of them were actually revising, even Hermione. Since Ron and Lavender had broken up, she was in an even better mood and was more than happy to take a night off work. Though, they did have all their books to just in case a teacher looked in and found them not doing any work.

"I need to tell you all something and if you hate me I'm really sorry," Harry said so quickly and so loudly that Ron almost toppled off his chair.

"Have you murdered someone?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry said. "No, it's..it's um...you know...I am...I mean...don't be weirded out...I...you know...still the same Harry..uh..."

"Spit it out, mate," Ron yawned.

"Imbisexualpleasedonthateme,"

Lydia could tell that Ron and Hermione barely understood what he said because they were both frowning. Harry had gone bright red and looked like he was on the verge of tears again.

"Sorry - what?" Hermione said, "I didn't quite get that,"

  
“Would you like to hold Fabio to make you feel better?” Lydia asked, holding him up to Harry.

Harry took a deep breath and held Fabio close to his chest.

'I am a bisexual,"

"Incorrect grammar," Lydia whispered.

"I'm bisexual,"

"Got it,"

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other and Lydia's heart dropped to her stomach. Were they really not going to accept him? After all the things that they had been through together, after all the arguments, was this the thing that was going to tear them apart? Harry looked at the floor.

"How long have you known?" Hermione asked.

"Halfway through fourth year," Harry muttered, still not looking at them.

"And you've kept it quiet all this time?" Ron asked, "Mate...why? You must have known that we'd be fine with it,"

Harry's head snapped up. "You're...okay with it?"

Hermione smiled at him and put her hand on his, "Merlin, Harry, of course we are. We're you best friends,"

"I know but I didn't want it to change anything," Harry said.

"Honestly Harry, at this point, I don't think there's any getting away from you," Ron said, "After that chess game in first year, the Chamber of Secrets, thinking that Sirius Black was going to kill me, the second Triwizard task and everything that happened last year...I've kind of accepted that I'm in this for the long run," He shrugged, "There's nothing that you could tell us that changes anything,"

"Unless you murdered someone," Hermione said, "Although, I suppose it depended who you murdered,"

  
“Why are you so obsessed with murder suddenly? Should we be worried? Do we need tell someone?” Lydia asked.

Hermione waved her down and turned back to Harry.

“We’re your best friends, Harry, we’ll stand by you through everything and anything,” she said, “We love you,” She smiled at him and then said, “So, is there a boy we need to know about? Or a girl?”

  
Harry rolled his eyes. “No, there isn't,” Lydia bit back a laugh and wondered if they would be as supportive if they knew about Draco Malfoy.

“Yeah there is!” Ron said, “That's why Lydia freaked out at Breakfast! You were wearing a different house tie!”

Lydia stared at him open-mouthed. Out of all the times that Ron could have been observant, it had to be that morning. Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned to look at Harry who had gone red.

“What tie was it?” Hermione asked.

“I didn't see,” Ron shrugged.

“It was Ravenclaw,” Lydia said quickly, “Although, he wouldn't tell me who it was,”

“And I'm not going to,” Harry said, “Because you'll just laugh,”

“Oh, Merlin!” Ron exclaimed, “It's Zacharias Smith, isn't it?”

“Merlin, Ron, no!” Harry yelled, “I wouldn't sink that low!”

Lydia wanted to point out that she would rather kiss Zacharias Smith than Draco Malfoy but stayed silent. Harry seemed to have realised this as well and frowned slightly, clearly mulling it over.

“If this doesn't work out, there's enough Weasley to go round,” Lydia said, glancing at Ron.

“You're not going out with any of my brothers!”

“Which ones are single?” Harry asked, “Fred, Percy and Charlie? And Bill isn't married quite yet, is he?”

“I can't tell if he's joking or not,” Ron said. He looked at Hermione, “Please tell me he's joking,”

“You know, I think you and Fred would be cute,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“Harry, I can get behind you being bisexual but the Weasley family is off limits!” Ron said seriously, “I'm still trying to wrap my head around Lydia and George,”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! 
> 
> I feel like the whole tie thing is probably really over done but I loved it too much to not put it in! 
> 
> Also, I thought I'd put in a bit of Deamus because I love that ship a little bit too much as well! 
> 
> Anyway, thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E.


	13. Sectumsempra

Harry and Lydia didn't talk about Draco Malfoy again. Though, the identity of Harry's mystery boyfriend or girlfriend didn't leave Ron's mind. Every single day, Ron sprang the question on him as if hoping he would accidentally slip up, but he never did. Whenever Ron did this and Malfoy was within earshot, Lydia would always look up at him and see if he would react, but he never did. Lydia had expected Hermione to work out who it was but she never showed any sign than she did. If she did know it was Malfoy, then she was keeping it to herself.

One thing that Lydia did notice about Draco Malfoy (apart from the hickeys on his neck) was that he stopped playing Quidditch. He turned up to practice one day with a note off Madam Pomfrey saying that he could no longer play due to an illness. Lydia didn't buy the excuse for one minute - he was definitely hiding something. Had this been a few weeks earlier, she probably would have brought it up to Harry but if she did that now, it would probably start an argument and she was trying to be a supportive as possible, even if she did hate Malfoy.

“You hate Malfoy, but you love Harry,” she would mutter to herself over and over again, “Harry is the most important person in this equation, don't fuck it up again.”

James had also noticed that Harry was involved with someone (thanks to Ron's constant pestering) and had been quick to ask who the mysterious person was. When Harry refused to tell him, he stepped down very quickly but did ask Lydia.

“If he's not telling you, I'm not,” she shrugged.

“So you know?” He asked eagerly.

“Obviously I know! We’re twins!” She said, “And that is why I'm not telling you!”

With Malfoy no longer playing on the Quidditch team and the quite dreadful Harper taking over from him, Lydia knew that there was no chance they would get through to the final. For as much as it pained her to admit it, Malfoy was a very good flier. She was quite thankful that they wouldn't get through the final, though, because that would mean having to play Gryffindor again and though she was a Slytherin, it felt wrong playing against them.

On the morning of the match, Lydia dragged herself down to the Quidditch pitch. She wasn't even slightly looking forward to this match. She was almost hoping that someone would hit a bludger at her early on so she wouldn't have to be around for too long.

The good thing, was that it was short. Lydia, Zabini and Urquhart managed to score a goal each before Cho Chang managed to catch the snitch and win the game for Ravenclaw. It was a relief when James blew his whistle and they were able to get back onto the ground. Urquhart walked over to her, his head hung.

“Well, that wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be,” he said.

“At least it was quick,” she shrugged.

James jogged over to them and put his arm around her shoulders.

“You were good and that's all that matters,” he said seriously.

“Yeah. At least I don't have to worry about Quidditch until next year,” she said.

“You need to worry about Gryffindor playing,” he pointed out, “you know, be a supportive sister and all that,”

April dissolved into May and Lydia couldn't stop thinking about the end of the school year. She wasn't looking forward to owing back to the Dursleys, but she was quite looking forward for them to pretend that she didn't exist for a few weeks. One thing that she definitely wasn't looking forward to her was her final year at Hogwarts; she still had no idea what she was going to do once she left school.

“Expelliarmus!”

Lydia jumped back and looked around, expecting to see someone trying to jinx her, but there was no one to be seen. Lydia frowned and thought that she was hearing things but then she heard the sound of another jinx cracking against a wall and she almost fell over, but realised that it was coming from the boys bathroom.

Carefully, she placed Fabio in her pocket to keep him from harm and plucked her wand from her bun. Holding her wand out, she kicked the door open and ran in, expecting to find annoying fourth years but the sight that met her shocked her. Harry and Malfoy were locked in a furious duel. Lydia yelped and dived out of the way as one of Malfoy's jinxes soared above her.

Making sure that Fabio was safe in her pocket, she jumped in between them.

“PROTEGO!”

The shield charm grew between them and the last two jinxes they cast bounced off them. Harry staggered away from her when he saw her and Malfoy lowered his wand. For the first time, Lydia realised that Malfoy was crying.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” She snapped, “I thought you were...friends,”

“Yeah, so did I!” Harry said angrily, “But now he won't tell me what's up with him!”

“Malfoy-”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME, POTTER!” Malfoy screamed, taking Lydia by surprise. She had only ever seen him composed, “YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!”

“Because you don't tell me anything!” Harry hissed.

“BECAUSE I’M SCARED!” He yelled and then he faltered, “I...I'm so scared..” And he burst into tears.

Lydia jumped back and prodded Harry forward, “This is your problem,”

Hesitantly, Harry walked towards Malfoy and put his arms around his waist. “Draco,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “I..I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, I'll help,”

“He-he-” Malfoy seemed to be in some sort of daze and it was making Lydia extremely uncomfortable, “If I don't - they - killed - I-” He blinked a few times and then looked at Harry and jerked backwards, as though he had seen him for the first time, “Fuck of, Potter!” He shoved Harry in the chest and Harry almost crashed into Lydia. “Why do you think you can solve everything just because you have a scar on your head?”

“Draco, what-”

“DEPULSO!”

Lydia grabbed Harry and pulled him down to the floor. Moaning Myrtle floated above them, crying loudly. She tried to shush her but that only made it worse - Myrtle swooped above them, wailing so loudly that Lydia had to clap her hands over her ears.

“Harry! Come on!” She yelled as another jinx cracked above their heads, “We need to get someone!”

She dived up and ran towards the door, but Harry wasn't done. He whirled around.

“SECTUMSEMPRA!”

“What kind of spell is-oh, Merlin!”

Lydia watched in horror as blood began to spurt from Malfoy's chests, arms and face, as though an invisible sword was cutting deeply into his flesh. For a moment, Malfoy looked shocked and then he fell to the floor, twitching slightly. Lydia screamed and ran towards him, falling to her knees next to him. Water was swirling around them and his blood was dissolving into it.

“Malfoy? Malfoy? Can you hear me?” Lydia said, bending over to him - he was breathing, but barely. She turned to Harry, “What the fuck have you done? What spell was that?”

Colour had drained from Harry's face and he was gripping onto one of the bathroom stalls, shaking his head.

“I-I don't know! It was in the book!”

“You cast a spell and had no idea how it worked?” She asked, horrified, “GO AND GET HELP!”

But there was no point, Moaning Myrtle gave another great wail and disappeared through one of the walls. “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!”

“Lydia! Help me!” He yelled, running towards her, “Go and hide the book for me - please! The-”

“What has happened here?”

Lydia whirled around and saw the last person they wanted to see - Professor Snape. His bottom lip curled at the sight in the bathroom.

“Miss Potter, if this was your doing-”

“It wasn't,” Harry said quickly, “It was me. She just tried to help. I don't know what I did, sir,”

Snape shoved them both out of the way and knelt over Malfoy. He took his wand out and muttered incantations under his breath. As he did so, the cuts began to disappear and it was as though Harry had never done anything. Though Lydia didn't think that Snape would let it go that quickly, and part of her didn't blame him.

“Miss Potter, you will go to Gryffindor common room and bring me all of your brothers books. Potter, you stay here.” Snape said in his meanest voice. Lydia frowned at him, somehow, he knew about the book.

“What's the password-”

“Quid Agis,” Harry said quickly.

Lydia bolted out of the bathroom and ran up to the Gryffindor common room with complete disregard to the fact that she was trailing water and blood behind her. When she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Lydia could tell that she was in the mood for a chat.

“Lydia! I haven't seen you for-”

“Quid Agis,”

“I'm fine, thank-you-”

“What?”

“Quid Agis is Latin for ‘how are you?’,” The Fat Lady said, “So, I was saying, I'm done but-why are you covered in blood?”

“Not now!” Lydia yelled, “Quid Agis! Let me in! It's important! Quid Agis!”

The Fat Lady rolled her eyes, “I shouldn't even let you in here. You're not a Gryffindor,” but she swung open anyway and allowed Lydia in. At once, Lydia scrambled through the portrait hole and looked around, spotting Ron and Hermione sat in the corner. She shoved two first years out of the way and practically fell onto them.

“Where's Harry's bag?”

“What?” Ron asked. He looked at her and his eyes widened, “Why are you wet? Is-is that blood?”

“WHERE IS HARRY’S BAG?” She screamed.

Hermione gave her a frightened look but reached down beside her and handed her his bag. Lydia tore it open and glanced into it, making sure that all of his books were there.

“Ron - can I have your potions book?”

“Why?”

“Please!” She said, “It's really important!”

He gave her a funny look but handed it to her anyway. She took it off him and shoved it into her pocket before taking Fabio out of it and handed him to Hermione, “Look after him!”

“Wait - are you not going to tell me what's going on?”

“Later!” She said, putting Harry's bag on her shoulder and rushing out of the room.

Flushed and out of breath, Lydia made it back to the boys bathroom. Someone had moved Malfoy from the bathroom and Snape was looking at Harry with a look that would have made Lydia want to leave the country and never come back. Silently, Lydia handed Snape Harry's bag.

“That will be all, Miss Potter,” Snape said, fixing her with a cold hard stare.

Lydia glanced at Harry but felt Snape's eyes boring into her and very quickly left, feeling as though her heart was in her mouth. She ran all the way to the seventh floor and walked up and down in front of the Room of Requirement. “I need somewhere to hide the book...I need somewhere to hide the book...somewhere where no one can find it...somewhere to hide the book, please, please...”

She opened her eyes and a door had materialised there. She opened the door and ran inside. Inside was quite a magnificent sight; the room was the biggest that she had ever seen it and was full of towering piles of objects. Some didn't look particularly important, whilst others looked like they belonged in museums, rather than whatever the hell this room was meant to be.

She looked around and her eyes fell upon an ugly wardrobe. Just beyond that, on a pile of what was seemingly rubbish, a tiara that was sat upon the bust of a head. She grabbed the book out of her pocket and hurried over to the head. Carefully, she picked it up and shoved the book underneath it, slowly backing away from it. If, for some reason, Harry really wanted the book back, Lydia would be able to remember where it was.

Taking one last look at the book, Lydia turned on her heel and ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. The bang of the door shutting echoed throughout the corridor brought her back down to earth. Panic began to sink in and she collapsed against the wall, imagining the worst - would Harry get expelled? Whilst Moaning Myrtle was overly-dramatic, even Lydia couldn't help but agree with her - it did look like murder. If Malfoy were to die...

She shoved that thought from her mind and ran back down the corridor, running to James’ office. When she arrived there, she didn't even bother to knock and just burst in. James was sat on one of the armchairs reading a book and, in his panic, chucked the book at Lydia. She quickly ducked underneath the book and closed the door behind her.

“Lydia! What's...oh, Merlin...what's wrong? What's happened? Is that blood?”

“Dad, I...I don't know what's happened!”

And before she knew it, she had burst into tears. James jumped over the back of the couch and ran over to her, slowly leading her over to the couch.

“Come on, tell me,”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and launched into the story of what happened. By the time she had finished, she realised that she was shaking uncontrollably. James nodded once and jumped up. He ran over to the corner of the room and made her a cup of tea.

“Tell me the spell again,” he said quietly.

“Sectumsempra,” she repeated, “why? Do you know it?”

“I almost got on the wrong side of it once, at school,” he said, “I think it’s safe to safe it’s borderline dark magic. Almost everyone who used it ended up being a Death Eater,” he paused, “but I don’t understand why it was written in the book,”

Lydia shook her head.

“I think he’s become obsessed with it,” she said frantically, “even Hermione said he reads it too much and if Hermione Granger says that you read a book too much...something’s wrong,”

James ran a hand through his hair.

“Why were they fighting in the first place?”

“I don’t know! They’ve had this weird relationship thing going on and - oh no.”

“Harry...and Malfoy?” James asked, his eyes wide.

Lydia closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, suddenly feeling a lot like Hagrid. “I shouldn’t have said that...I shouldn’t have...Merlin, dad don’t tell him I said something!”

“I won’t!” He promised hurriedly, “I just...wow. That’s a shock,”

Lydia nodded. “I know! They’ve hated each other the entire time they were here and now look at them!”

“To be fair, your mum hated me,” James said.

“Yeah, but you grew up! Malfoys just gotten...weird,” Lydia said, “And now he might die! What’s going to happen to him, dad?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I really don’t. I know people who survived the spell and people who didn’t...but I think it’s safe to say that Harry is in a lot of-“

There was a knock on the door and they both fell silent. James cast Lydia an anxious look and hurried to open the door, revealing Professor Snape. He looked into the office and when his eyes fell on Lydia, he smiled slightly.

“Ah,” He said softly, “I assume you know what’s happened,”

“Yes,” James said stiffly, “where’s Harry?”

“I sent Potter back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where he belongs. I have given him detention every Saturday for the rest of the school year and taken 70 points of Gryffindor. Your son performed Dark Magic today, Potter, I hope you realise,”

“Of course I realise that, Snivellus,” James said, “though, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, should they?”

Snape narrowed his eyes at James and then swept out of the room, his robes bellowing around him. James slammed the door shut and turned to Lydia.

“I shouldn’t resort to being so petty but he has such a punchable face!” James groaned, flopping down onto one of the armchairs.

“What are we going to do? About Harry?” Lydia asked.

“Give him time,”

Lydia wasn’t sure how much time they had left.

The next morning, Lydia was woken up by Pansy Parkinson standing over her bed and prodding her in the side. She screamed and sat bolt right up in bed, her wand in her hand.

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing?” She yelled, “Have you ever heard of personal space?”

Pansy ignored her.

“Is it true that your brother tried to murder Draco?”

“My brother did not try and murder Malfoy! It was an accident!” She snapped, “so I don't know what Snape is telling you that happened, but he got it wrong,”

“They’ve hated each other even since they came to this school, it would make sense that he would try and kill him!” Pansy said, “And they're saying it's Dark Magic-”

“First of all, Harry is as likely to become a Death Eater as Voldemort is to stop trying to kill us and, secondly, I thought I was the twin who was into the Dark Arts? Or has everyone gotten over that now?”

And with that, Lydia pulled her robes up, snatched her school bag off the ground and stormed out of the common room. Ron and Hermione were waiting for her outside, both with anxious looks on their faces.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, “Harry hasn't told us anything. He came to the common room late last night and then left really early. I don't know where he is,”

Lydia sighed and told them the story. Neither of them took it particularly well, especially Hermione whose eyes were round.

“He used a spell even though he didn't know what it did?” She exclaimed, “How thick can he get?”

“I know. It was awful...” Lydia said in a low voice in case people were listening, “It was like someone had taken a sword to him and was just slicing him open,”

“What were they arguing about?” Ron asked.

“I don't know,” Lydia said, “I never quite got to the bottom of that because then Snape showed up and when I brought him Harry's bag, he sent me away. But I know he's given Harry detention every Saturday for the rest of the year-”

“Quidditch!” Ron groaned.

“What?”

“The final match against Ravenclaw! It's soon, isn't it! And it's on a Saturday!”

“I can't believe he's managed to get himself banned from Quidditch again,” Lydia said, “I wonder where he is,”

“Do you not have the map?” Hermione asked.

“No, Harry has it.”

They arrived in the Great Hall and looked around for Harry. He was sat at the very end of the Gryffindor table, sat away from everyone. Lydia hesitantly sat down next to him. He looked up and smiled at them before getting distracted by his cereal. She exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione, shrugged slightly and then started making a bacon muffin.

“I don't want to talk about,” Harry said suddenly.

“OK,” Lydia said.

“I know you probably want to say ‘I told you so,”, Hermione but-”

“I don't,”

“I just want to move on from it,”

“That's fine,” Ron said, “We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to, mate,”

And they acted like it never happened.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised how close we are to the end of sixth year! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you're enjoying this - thanks for readin! 
> 
> -E.


	14. Second War

Lydia sat cross legged outside of Snape's office, a book open in her lap whilst Fabio munched on a piece of lettuce. She was waiting for Harry to finish his latest detention with Snape even though all she had wanted to do was go and watch the final Quidditch match of the season. Harry had replaced himself with Ginny and had gotten Dean Thomas to play in her place, though Lydia wasn't sure that Ginny was so thrilled about that. Especially after everything that had happened between them but, as usual, Harry was completely oblivious to the whole thing and hadn't realised what was wrong until it was too late.

The door opened and Harry walked out. He looked exhausted. At once, she jumped up and walked over to him.

“Are you OK?” She asked.

“Been better,” he said. He looked at his watch, “The match will probably be over by now...unless it's gone completely wrong,”

Lydia walked over to one of the windows and glanced out at the Quidditch pitch - it was empty.

“Come on,” Lydia said, “We’ll go and see what's happened,”

Together, they walked up to the Gryffindor common room. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she was sat so still, that she almost looked like a muggle portrait.

“Quid Agis,” Harry said tentatively.

“You’ll see,” The Fat Lady replied, not giving anything away.

She swung open and the sound that met them almost knocked them off their feet. Hands pulled them into common room and Ron was stood on a table, holding the silver cup above his head, jumping up and down. The Gryffindor Quidditch team descended on Harry and it seemed that any ill will that they had been feeling towards their captain for missing such an important match had disappeared.

Someone shoved Lydia out of the way and she fell into Hermione who quickly caught her. She looked up and she started laughing for Ginny Weasley had thrown her arms around Harry and was kissing him. The sounds of cheering only increased as they pulled apart, looking quite sheepish but very happy. Lydia looked at Ron, he was still holding the cup above his head but looked quite shock. Finally, he looked at Harry and kind of shrugged whilst nodding his head as if to say, “well, if you have too, mate,”

Harry grinned and looked at Ginny, jerking his head towards the portrait hole and they left the common room to a chorus of wolf whistles. Hermione laughed and turned to Lydia.

“It's about time, don't you think?”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “I suppose so,”

“Have you spoken to Harry about what him and Dumbledore are talking about in their lessons?”

Lydia shook her head, “No. Why?

“It's really important,” Hermione said anxiously, “And-and I know I probably shouldn't tell you, but...Merlin, Lyds, it's serious,”

“All right, all right! What is it?”

“Voldemort has created these things called Horcruxes,” She said in a low voice, “They're objects that have part of his soul in and he can only be killed if they're destroyed,”

Lydia nodded and took Fabio out of her pocket, stroking him. Part of her wasn't surprised by this news. She had always assumed that Voldemort would be doing something more sinister than just killing people.

“And he wants Harry to help him find one?” Lydia asked in a resigned voice.

“Yes,”

Lydia sighed and sat back in her chair, her head in her hands. Fabio squealed at her and hid under her jumper. Lydia wished that she could find a jumper to hide under. Hermione was looking at her, worriedly.

“I'm going to have to go with them,” Lydia whispered.

“Lydia-”

“I was stupid to think I ever had a choice,” Lydia said, “I don't get to just back out of this and act like none of this is ever going to affect me!” She groaned, “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

\---

Lydia walked through the halls of Hogwarts expecting the worst. She expected Voldemort to pop out from behind a tapestry or for Dumbledore to tell them about some ridiculous quest that they would have to go on. It never happened. Instead, she retreated back into her shell and took to getting food straight from the kitchens to avoid going into the Great Hall.

Hermione didn't try and talk to her, and neither did Ron or Harry. Though, Harry had become distracted by Ginny Weasley and Lydia didn't blame him. He deserved some goodness. They all did.

Early one morning, Lydia dragged herself up to the Owlery and wrote to George. There wasn't anything that he could do or say to help her, but it made her feel better. Once she had written a ridiculously long letter that even she wouldn't read, she called Hedwig down.

“Take this to George,” Lydia said, stroking her head, “Don't be long,”

Hedwig nipped her finger affectionately and took off flying through the window. Lydia watched her go until she disappeared in the bright sunlight. Behind her, the door opened and Malfoy walked in. Lydia's hand automatically went to her wand but Malfoy shook his head.

“Obviously I'm not going to get into another duel with a Potter,” Malfoy said, “And we all know that you are the much scarier Potter,”

“Not now, Malfoy,” Lydia said, “I'm having a crisis - and _not_ one I'm sharing with you,”

“So, your brother and Ginny Weasley...he moves on quickly,”

“All Weasleys have great hair. It's very easy to get sucked in,” Lydia shrugged. She glanced at him, “You know, I think you're a dick and you're definitely up to something but I'm glad your better,” she smiled at him and left the Owlery, leaving behind what she assumed was probably a very confused Draco Malfoy.

 

\---

When Lydia saw Harry running down the corridor towards her at top speed, she knew that something was wrong. He grabbed her arm to stop himself from crashing to the floor, looking at her in a way that made her feel like he might have finally lost his mind.

“You're on prefect duty tonight, right?” He asked.

“Yes. That's where I'm going now...why?”

“Dumbledore found a Horcrux,” he said hurriedly, “I’m going with him now,” he shoved the Marauders Map and a small bottle of potion into her hands, “That's Felix Felicis - liquid luck,”

“Harry, what-”

“Lydia, listen to me, drink it. Give some to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. I heard someone celebrating in the Room of Requirement before and I think something's going to happen tonight,” He said quickly, “Please, Lydia, you need to do this for me - I don't have time, right now - Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak,”

“Wait, Harry. I don't understand what you mean-”

“Snape and Malfoy are up to something. I know for a fact that they are. Watch where they are on the Marauders Map. Get the DA Galleons and call everyone together. If Snape knows that Dumbledore is leaving the castle, something is going to happen. Tonight,” He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, “I’ll see you later,”

She grabbed the back of his robes and yanked him back.

“Harry! You can't just leave me like that!” She yelled.

“I need to go!” He said, “Just...just be careful, please!”

“Take the potion then, you don't know what you'll be facing! You'll need it!” Lydia said, pushing it back towards him.

“I’ll be fine, I'll be with Dumbledore,” he said, “Tell Ron and Hermione where I am, and Ginny too...don't look at me like that, Lydia, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later,” And then he was gone.

Lydia stood frozen in the corridor for a few minutes before turning her back on the corridor that she was meant to be patrolling and ran up to the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione were sat together in their normal seats. As she ran over to them, Lydia grabbed Ginny’s hand and dragged her along.

“Ouch! Lydia, what are you doing?” She yelled.

“Harry's gone,” and she quickly explained what had happened and where Harry was going. Glancing around, she put the Felix Felicis on the table and looked up at them, “He thinks that something is going to happen tonight,” Lydia said and she took the DA Galleon out of her pocket that she always kept with her, just in case. “We need to contact the rest of the DA,”

“Lydia, don't be ridiculous-” Hermione said but Lydia shook her head.

“No,” Lydia said, “It's not ridiculous. I'm not saying that Snape or Malfoy are going to do something but, there's something going on tonight,”

“Fine,” Hermione said, “Do whatever you have to do,”

They split the Felix Felicis between the four of them and then Lydia changed the time on the Galleon to half an hours time. Previous members of the DA who still had their Galleons on them looked over at her frowned.

“Later!” She said, “Right - I'll see you lot later,”

“Where are you going?” Ron asked.

“I need to speak to my dad,”

She rushed from the common and to her dad's office. For the first time, she actually knocked on the door instead of just bursting open. When he opened it, he looked quite shocked but quickly stepped aside.

“What's wrong?” He asked.

“Harry's gone looking for a Horcrux with Dumbledore,” she said quickly, “And he thinks something’s going to happen tonight. I’ve gotten the DA together and-”

“OK, I’ll make sure none of you get in trouble,” He kissed her on the forehead, “I’m sure it'll be fine, whatever happens,”

Lydia smiled at her and ran back down to the Slytherin common room and placed Fabio on her bed. She left him some food and ran back upstairs and towards the Room of Requirement where the DA were waiting for her, all of them looking very confused.

“What's going on?” Ernie Macmillan asked.

“Listen - I think there's going to be an attack on the school tonight,” she said quickly, “I need you lot patrolling the corridors. Luna and Hermione- wait outside Professor Snape's office, make sure he doesn't leave. I’ll stay outside here with Ron,” she looked back over the group, “Ernie and Susan, I want you two at the Entrance Hall. Ginny, I want you down in the Slytherin dungeons with Neville. Everyone else, patrol the corridors. Stay near the common rooms, just in case,”

Despite the funny looks that people were giving her, they all nodded and hurried off. Lydia took out the Marauder's Map, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,”. She quickly scanned it and everyone seemed to be where they were meant to be. Snape was in his study but the only problem was that she couldn't see where Malfoy was. The Slytherin common seemed to be packed so she just assumed that she couldn't see him among everyone else.

“This is going to be a long night,” Ron said, “It's only eight o’clock,”

“It's better to be safe than sorry,” Lydia said. She slid down the wall and sat cross legged on the floor.

Five hours later, Ron suddenly jerked up and scrambled away from the Room of Requirement. “There's someone in there!” He said, pointing at the door. It had opened slightly and, sure enough, Lydia could hear voices coming from inside. Lydia jumped up, her wand drawn and Ron quickly ran to join her.

Suddenly, the door banged open and Bellatrix Lestrange burst out of the Room, cackling. Her eyes grew wide when her eyes fell upon Lydia and Ron, and she lifted her wand.

“ _EXPELLIARMUS!”_ Lydia yelled.

Bellatrix flicked her wand and Lydia's spell disappeared in mid air. Fenrir Greyback was the next out, followed by three Death Eaters who Lydia had never seen before, and then Draco Malfoy. He froze when he saw Lydia but didn't say anything.

“You two are brave aren't you?” Bellatrix taunted, “Being here all by yourselves?”

“They aren't here alone,”

Lydia whirled around as Professor Babbling and McGonagall marched down the corridor, their wands held out before them. Bellatrix began to laugh again and more and more Death Eaters spilled out of the Room. Ron glanced at Lydia who was trying her to best to not start crying.

“Potter, get going,” Babbling hissed at her as McGonagall cast the first spell of the duel.

Lydia grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him after her. “We need to tell the others what's going on,”

By the time they had found members of the DA, the castle was crawling with Death Eaters. Lydia held her wand tighter and gave into the fact that there would be no easy way out of this as two Death Eaters climbed the stairs towards her and Ron.

“This should be fun,” Lydia muttered, _“Petrificus Totalus!”_

The Death Eater ducked under the spell, laughing slightly. _“Stupefy!”_

_“Protego!”_

Lydia backed away slightly as the Death Eater advanced on her. He was laughing slightly. She panicked and yelled the first spell that popped into her head, _“Colloshoo!”_ She allowed herself to laugh for a moment as the Death Eaters shoes became stuck to the ground and he was unable to move.

“ _Deprimo!”_ She yelled before the Death Eater could cast a spell again. There was a awful cracking sound and he yelled as the bones in his wand arm broke and collapsed against the banister, nursing his injured hand. She cast, _“Petrificus Totalus,”_ for good measure and then ran on with Ron.

Curses and jinxes were flying everywhere but none seemed to hit Lydia or Ron. Twice, she was quite sure that two jinxes flew right through her as though she was a ghost.

_“Everte Statum!”_ Lydia said as a Death Eater ran up to Neville from behind. As she passed the fallen Death Eater, she made a point of kicking her in the side as she la groaning. “Alright, Nev?” She asked.

“Fine,” he said, wiping blood from his lip, “What's going on?”

“I don't know,” she said, “I don't really know why they’re - _FLIPENDO -_ I don't really know why they're here-” another Death Eater advanced on them and Lydia pushed Neville out of the way, _“Expulso,”_ she winced slightly as it caught a Death Eater in the chest, “Oooh, never used that on a person before-” She was suddenly flung through the air and landed in a plant. She groaned and pushed herself off the floor, holding her side - her Felix Felicis must have run out. 

She looked up and a big blonde Death Eater was walking towards her. _“Fumos!”_ A cloud of dark grey smoke suddenly obscured her vision and she couldn't see anything. _“Lumos! Lumos! Lumos maxima!_ Oh no...” She could hear the Death Eater walking towards her but she couldn't see anything, “ _INCENDIO!”_ Fire burst from the end of her wand and she heard the Death Eater yell and the smoke began to disperse.

_“Impedimenta!”_ But the Death Eater just waved his wand and the spell bounced back towards Lydia, who only just managed to jump out of the way.

“LYDIA!”

She spun around just as James charged towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and rugby tackled her to the floor as a curse soared over their heads. He shoved her away from him and jumped up. “Hey! We went to school together!”

The Death Eater ignored him.

_“Sectum-”_

_“Protego,”_ James said, almost lazily, “That's not a very nice spell you know -”

Lydia knew what was going to happen before it did. She ran forward and tried to get to him, but someone grabbed her and pulled her back. It was Neville. “Lydia! No!” And she could do nothing but stare in horror as the jet of green light caught James in the chest. It happened so quickly. One minute he was there, the next he was not.

“NO!” Lydia screamed, “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

She roared and ran forward. She didn’t care about anything else but revenge. It was the only thing that had ever mattered. As she moved towards the Death Eater, she thought about how the killing curse was below her. She had yet to sink that low. Besides, the Death Eater deserved to feel something. He deserved to feel death. She would not allow him the privilege of an easy death.

_“Deprimo!”_ She shouted over and over again. She felt herself smile as the Death Eater fell to the floor crying out in pain as his bones broke. _“Bombarda Maxima,”_ there was a sound like a gunshot and the Death Eater was blown off his feet and flew through a window.

If she was ever going to feel remorse for what she had done, it would not be that night.

“Lydia?”

She turned around and came face to face with George. The look on his face told Lydia that he had just seen everything.

“He killed my dad,” she said, her voice calm, “No one, and I mean _no one,_ get to lay a hand on my family and come out the other side,”

She looked around and realised that people were retreating. Professor Sprout hurried over to them, her hand on her heart as she looked at James. She called some students over and they carried him up to the Hospital Wing.

Up in the Hospital Wing, Fred, Ron, Hermione and Luna were gathered around a bed with Remus and Tonks. All of them bore marks of the battle. Lydia looked over Tonks’ shoulder and almost threw up at the sight of Bill, because he didn't look like Bill. His face was bloody, ripped and grotesque and covered in bandages. Madam Pomfrey was dabbing something green and harsh-smelling onto his cuts.

“Is he going to be a-” Lydia looked uncertainly at Lupin.

He shook his head. “No, I do not think so, but that doesn't. Mean that there won't be some contamination. I think that he might have some wolffish characteristics-” he looked around, “Wheres James?”

The doors opened and Harry and Ginny walked in before Lydia could say anything. Automatically, Lydia knew that something had gone wrong.

“Dumbledore's dead,” Ginny said.

“No!” Lupin said. He collapsed into a chair beside Bill’s bed, his head in his hands. Lydia looked at Harry. His eyes were filled with tears and his lower lip was trembling.

“What happened?” She asked.

“It was Snape,” Harry said numbly. Lydia felt her knees buckle slightly and George put his arm around her waist. “I was there. I saw it. It was on the Astronomy Tower. Malfoy came first and disarmed him and then more Death Eaters came...but then Malfoy couldn't do it so Snape did it. The Avada Kedavra curse,”

Lydia stared at her brother and she knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking about Malfoy and how he had come to trust him. And how they had taken the massive step of calling each other by their first names. He was shaking his head and was just looking utterly defeated.

“Harry, I..” But she had no idea what to say. The bed that James was lay on had curtains drawn around it. Maybe if she ignored it, it would be like it never happened.

They stood in silence for what might have been hours. The only sound was of that of Fawkes the Phoenix as he flew around the grounds, singing a lament. Hearing his song made Lydia feel a lot better.

The door opened again and McGonagall strolled in, “Molly and Arthur are on their way. Where's Albus?”

“Snape killed him,” said Harry.

“Snape,” repeated McGonagall faintly, “Snape _killed_ Dumbledore? We all wondered...but he trusted...he always trusted...Severus..I can't believe it,”

Lydia felt a sudden rush of guilt. Harry had been right about Snape all along...if she had just listened to him, maybe this could have been avoided.

“I'd love to know what Snape said to Dumbledore to make him trust him,” Tonks said bitterly.

“I know,” Harry said and they all turned to look at him. “Snape passed Voldemort the information that made Voldemort hunt down mum and dad. Then Snape told Dumbledore he hadn't realised what he was doing. He said he was really sorry and than he was sorry he was dead,”

Lupin laughed bitterly. “And Dumbledore believed that? Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry I was dead? He hated James more than anything!”

“And he didn't think my mother was worth a damn, either....he called her, ‘Mudblood,’ he did...” Harry muttered, “Where's dad?”

No one answered. Lydia rested her head on George’s shoulder and screwed her eyes shut.

“What happened, Lydia?” Harry asked.

Lydia opened her eyes. “I got the DA together and assigned them posts. I stayed outside the Room of Requirement with Ron and then they came...” Lydia shook her head, “Ginny and Neville were in the dungeons and Hermione and Luna were outside Snape's office,”

“What happened?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Nothing happened for ages and we didn't know what was happening upstairs because Lydia and Ron had the Marauders Map,” Hermione said, her head hung, “And then Flitwick came running down into the dungeons at around midnight, shouting about Death Eaters in the castle. I don't think he even realised that me and Luna were there because he just ran straight into Snape's office-” she groaned, “And we were so stupid! There was a thump and Snape came out saying that Flitwick had banged his head and then he ran away...so went into his office to see if we could help Professor Flitwick and he was unconscious...”

“So Snape Stupefied him,” Lydia said quietly.

“It's so obvious!” Hermione wailed, “We shouldn't have let him go!”

“Hermione, it's not your fault,” Lupin said firmly, “If you'd have tried to stop him, then he would have just killed both you and Luna,”

“What were you doing?” Harry asked Lydia.

“Well, me and Ron were outside the Room of Requirement and then all the Death Eaters came out...and Professor McGonagall and Babbling turned up and we ran away and then more Death Eaters came,” she said quickly, “then I got separated from Ron and I didn't know where he was.

“And then I found Neville and my Felix Felicis ran out so then that big blonde Death Eater came over to me and then we were duelling and I was losing, terribly, and then dad took over and then...oh, Harry...dads dead,”

Harry didn’t react straight away. He just stood with his back straight, staring at her. Then the tears came and Lydia couldn’t bare to look at him anymore.

“So, did the Death Eater get away?” Lupin asked. He looked older than she had ever seen him.

Lydia managed to turn around to him.

“No. I killed him,”

Harry gaped at her, “Avada Kedavra?”

“Bombarda Maxima,”

Everyone was staring at her. “I don't really have time for a lesson in morals. He killed my dad. What was I going to do? Sit down and have a chat with him about how murder is wrong?”

The door opened and Lydia moved backwards as Mr and Mrs Weasley and Fleur ran into the dormitory.

“I’m-I need a moment,” Lydia whispered, walking out of the room. No one tried to shout her back, not that it would make any difference anyway. 

It was almost two o’clock in the morning now, but Lydia didn't feel tired. She slowly sank to the floor halfway down a staircase. There was no one around. Harry had been right about Snape and Malfoy all along. They _had_ been up to something. Lydia wished that she had taken him more seriously and had done more than just shout at him all the time.  

Footsteps behind her announced someone's arrival, she looked around. It was George. He sat down next to her. Now that they were alone, Lydia allowed herself to start crying. She wasn't particularly upset about Dumbledore's death and the fact that James was dead hadn’t sunk in yet. She was upset because she knew that things were about to change. That it was time to face reality and put any lies that she had about what her life might be like behind her. Because she know knew what her life was going to be like because she was, simply put, a soldier. There was no escaping it now. She was nothing but a disposable soldier.

“George-”

“I know,” He said, “I know what you're going to say and I don't want to hear you say it. Not yet, anyway. I just want to hold onto whatever this is for a little while longer,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, things just got really depressing really quickly. I’m also stood in the toilets in college to upload this for you so, you’re welcome. 
> 
> Also, I’ve officially ran out of pre-written chapters (rip me) so I don’t know if I’ll be uploading as regularly as usual but I’m really excited to start the Deathly Hallows stuff! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> -E.


	15. Final Good-Byes

Dumbledore's death shocked the whole school. Classes were cancelled and exams postponed. No one seemed to know what to do with themselves, Lydia least of all. She didn't know how Harry was dealing with everything for she had taken ignoring everyone to a whole new level. Now that she had no classes to go to, and no dad to visit, she only ever left the common room to get food from the kitchens. She spent her days sat in her usual seat in the common room with Fabio on her lap, gazing into the Black Lake and wondering how on earth she was going to bounce back from this.

The loss of James had hit her harder than she thought it would. Part of her had hoped that it wouldn't affect her that much - she had grown up without her father and was used to not having him around but then she had gotten used to him being round. She had gotten used to having a parent to turn to, had gotten used to seeing him around school and being able to go to his office when she was bored. On top of all this, of course, there was the endless guilt. She felt guilty because she had spent a lot of the year arguing with him and guilty because if she had paid more attention to what was going on in the duel, maybe he wouldn't have had to take over for her.

She also felt a lot of anger towards Dumbledore. Why had he left the school so defences? What had he left it up to a group of teenagers to try and protect the school? Did he not speak to McGonagall and the other Professors? Why was the Order not stationed closer to the school? And, if he such a good wizard, if he was so powerful, how had he been killed? How had he been killed by someone he trusted so much?

Harry hadn't sought her out, and she hadn't sought him out. She still had the Marauders Map and spent a lot of her time pouring over it. She watched Harry, Ron and Hermione’s dots in the Gryffindor common room, always together. Her eyes travelled over James’ office and wished that his dot was there, and she wished, more than ever, that she could find him and speak to him about anything...everything.

The other Slytherins ignored her. Lydia felt that part of it was out of respect, but the other part was out of sheer terror. The news that Lydia Potter had killed a Death Eater in a very cruel way had quickly spread through the castle and it was like being back in second year when the whole school thought that she was killing Muggleborn students. At least then times had been simpler and she had yet to experience everything that she had done.

Something that did make her feel terrible was the fact that Dumbledore's death hadn't upset her. She was shocked that he was dead because he seemed like the kind of person who could never die, but she wasn't upset about it. Even worse, her tears were never for him. They were for James, and for Harry and for herself. Because she had accepted her fate. She had accepted the fact that she probably wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts the next year for the Horcruxes were out there somewhere.

And she thought about the Horcruxes a lot. She wondered what they could be and, more importantly, where they could be. Lydia watched as the giant squid floated lazily past and she fiddled with the necklace that James had gotten her for her birthday, wondering what it was like to live a quiet life. From the limited information Lydia had about Horcruxes, and it really was limited, she assumed that a Horcrux could be anything. She wondered if Voldemort kept some with him, or whether they were all spread around the world.

On the morning of Dumbledore's funeral, Lydia followed the rest of Slytherin house into the Great Hall. She sat at the very end of the table and looked around. So much seemed to have changed. Crabbe and Goyle, massive though they were, looked quite small without Draco Malfoy sat between them. Professor Snape's chair at the staff table had been filled by Rufus Scrimgeour. His eyes were sweeping the Great Hall and Lydia was quite sure that he was looking for her and Harry. Hagrid was also missing and Lydia assumed that it was because he wouldn't be able to face breakfast. The Headmaster's chair had been left empty.

Her eyes fell on the chair that James usually occupied and her elbow slipped off the table. Someone had covered it in lilies. She quickly turned away from the staff table and bit back tears. She pushed cereal around her bowl, not intending on eating anything.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and stood up. “Ravenclaws, follow Professor Flitwick, Hufflepuffs, follow Professor Sprout, Slytherins, you're with Professor Slughorn and Gryffindors with me,”

Professor Slughorn walked down the table and began herding his students outside. Lydia fiddled with robes as she walked behind Daphne and Astoria Greengrass out into the grounds. Rows and rows of chairs had been set up and there was a small wizard stood at the front of them, looking sombre. Lydia glanced at the back of Professor Slughorn's head and, trusting that he would miss her in the crowd of people, Lydia backed out of the crowd. She blended in with a crowd of Ravenclaws and then forced her way into the Gryffindors. She was sure that Professor McGonagall saw her but she didn't say anything.

She spotted the Weasley’s and ran over to them, grabbing George’s hand.

“Come on, I can't-oh, no, sorry, Fred. You look the same from the back,” she muttered and actually grabbing George’s hand this time, “And from the front, obviously,” she added, looking up at them.

“You know, there's a funeral going on-”

“And I can't deal with that right now,”

He didn't argue back. They walked around the edge of the lake and ended up near the Whomping Willow, where they could no longer see the funeral properly. Lydia was quite happy to be as far away from the funeral as possible. They sat under the the shade of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. For the first time in her life, the Forbidden Forest wasn't scary. She would much rather live in the Forbidden Forest for the rest of her life than go on and do whatever she would have to do in the coming months. George still wasn't ready to talk about the future, and Lydia was quite happy to oblige for as long as humanly possible. More importantly though, Lydia wasn't sure she had a future to talk about.

When she entered her first year of Hogwarts, she never gave one thought to what she would do once she left. After all, seven years was a long time and she had only just discovered that magic existed. In her second year at Hogwarts, the only thing she wanted to do was get as far away from Gilderoy Lockhart as possible and, if she could, she would happily make a career out of it. After leaving Professor Lupin’s first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, she genuinely thought that she might one day become a teacher one day. Strangely enough, it was a Death Eater who had first planted the idea of being an Auror into her head. She had carried that thought all the way into her fifth year and had quickly turned on the idea when she realised how awful the Ministry really were and the DA had made her discover a passion for teaching.

She couldn't lie and say that she hadn't thought about being a Quidditch player that year. She didn't think she was actually that good, but it was nice to daydream. She often thought back to the Quidditch World Cup and imagined herself flying around the pitch with the England Quidditch team. It would never happen, really, but it was nice to escape to a fantasy world for a few minutes. A fantasy world where Dark Wizards and Horcruxes weren't constantly on her mind.

“I think the funerals over,” George said, breaking the silence.

Lydia nodded and stood up, brushing all the dirt off her dress robes. They snuck back into the retreating crowd, acting as though they had been there the entire time. Lydia didn't think that anyone would notice they weren't there. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were walking just a little way in front of her. Lydia didn't really want to speak to them, but George grabbed her hand and made a beeline for them. Thankfully, Harry and Ginny walked away from Ron and Hermione and Lydia didn't have to deal with trying to speak to her brother.

“Everything OK?” George asked.

“Splendid,” Hermione said. She looked at Lydia, “Ready for tomorrow?”

Lydia winced. James’ funeral was to be held the next day at Godric's Hollow and she had never dreaded anything more.

“I’ll get through it,”

The four of them stood there for a while, talking about nonsense. No one wanted to talk about anything of importance for everything of importance was alarmingly depressing and possibly life threatening. Finally, Harry walked over to them, without Ginny. Lydia looked at her brother and knew what he had done.

“I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow,” George said. He kissed Lydia, waved at the others and hurried to join the rest of the Weasleys.

Silently, they turned their back on the castle and walked around the grounds. Lydia stared at the floor as she walked, her arms wrapped around herself. It was strange, walking the grounds with them now. Lydia had done it countless times over her years at Hogwarts, and now, she felt as though she didn't know what to say to them. So much had happened, yet there were no amount of words that could adequately cover how they all felt.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, coming to a halt. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned around to look at her. “I'm sorry for being such a prat all year. I've been annoying and bitchy and I haven't been there for any of you when I should have been,”

“Lydia-”

“No, Harry, shut up, I'm being a nice person,” she took a deep breath, “This year has been ridiculously hard on all four of us and I haven't helped in the slightest but the three of you have tried to help. And I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry,”

“You don't need to apologise to me or Ron,” Hermione said quickly, “But, I think you and Harry need to talk,”

Ron smiled nervously at them both and followed Hermione back up to the castle. Lydia glanced at Harry and quickly looked away. He looked too much like James. It was very painful.

“I don't want you to apologise,” he said, “I've not been sibling of the year, either,”

Lydia snorted and nodded her head. “We’ve been the worst, actually,” They lapsed into silence again as they sat under the shade of a tree. “So...did you find it? The Horcrux again?”

Harry nodded and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a thick, golden locket. He dropped it into her hands and she looked at it. It was decorated with an ornate green ‘S,’. Lydia frowned at it.

“Is this-”

“Slytherins? Yes,” Harry said, “I think he wanted something of all the founders of Hogwarts,”

Lydia nodded, “Is this actually one of them?”

“Open it,”

She opened it and a note fell out.  
To the Dark Lord,  
I know I will be dead long before you read this  
But I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.  
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.  
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,  
You will be mortal once more.

“It's not the real locket,”

“No,”

“He died for nothing,”

“Yes,”

“Dad died for nothing,”

“I know,”

Lydia dropped the locket as though it had burned her, wiping her eyes furiously. She was fed up of crying.

“I'm going to have to put my pride aside and come with you, aren't I?”

“You don't have to,” he said.

“Yes, I do,” she said, turning to look at her brother, “I was ridiculous to think that I would ever be able to run away from this. Voldemort, the Horcruxes...there's no getting away from it,”

Harry sighed and nodded.

“I'm sorry you had to see dad die,”

“I'm sorry I couldn't stop it,”

“We can avenge his death, though,”

“I know. And we will,”

“I still stand by what I said last year, though,” she said quietly, “I’d sooner off myself than have Voldemort kill me,”

Harry looked down at her, tears in his eyes. And he nodded. “I know,”

They stood up again and walked back to the castle. Nothing would ever be the same again, and Lydia was more than aware of that, but she already felt better. For as long as she had Harry by her side, she felt that nothing could hurt her.

“Harry! Lydia!”

They turned round and came face to face with Rufus Scrimgeour. Lydia resisted the urge to tell him to fuck off and instead decided to do the slightly politer thing and just glare at him.

“You both must be devastated...Dumbledore and now your father...my deepest condolences,” He said soberly.

“What do you want?” Harry asked.

“Word is is that you were on the tower with him, the night he died,” Scrimgeour said, “There were two broomsticks, Harry. The Ministry can put two and two together,”

“Nice to know,” said Lydia.

Scrimgeour turned to look at Lydia, “And I heard about what you did to that Death Eater...you have the making of an Auror-”

“I don't think you'll ever find me working for your Ministry, Minister,” Lydia said.

“I think it would be in our best interests to know what you and Dumbledore were doing, Harry,” Scrimgeour said, clearly accepting that she was a lost cause.

“I’m never going to tell you, Minister,” Harry said shortly.

“I see, so you're still Dumbledore's man-”

“Through and through, yeah,”

“And you, Lydia?”

“I stand by my brother, Minister, through anything,”

\---

The next morning, Lydia sat in the front row of the funeral service for James. She didn't look at the coffin and she certainly didn't look at the grave. She knew that her mother was buried just before her and she couldn't bare to look. Losing James was one thing, seeing her mother's grave was another and would almost certainly send her over the edge she was very close to falling over.

Harry stood next to her. He was staring straight ahead and his jaw was clenched. Remus stood on her other side with Tonks. There had been an interesting development in their relationship since the day that Death Eaters stormed the castle. In any other circumstances, Lydia would have probably met this with a lot more interest, but she just couldn't bring herself to care.

The Weasleys and Hermione stood behind her. Lydia glanced around and saw Neville and Luna also in attendance. She almost collapsed when she looked towards the very back of the congregation and saw Daphne and Astoria Greengrass and even Orville Urquhart. Feeling like she couldn't take anymore shocks to the system, she turned back to face the front and gripped Harry's hand, trying to steady herself.

Professor McGonagall walked to the front and glanced at James’ coffin. She dabbed at her eyes and unfurled a roll of parchment.

“The first time I met James Potter. He was loud and obnoxious. When I met him again, he was still just as loud and just as obnoxious, but that's what made him so endearing-”

Lydia screwed her eyes shut and rested her forehead on Harry's shoulder. She tried to block out what she was hearing and memories of James burst into her mind.

_James face appeared in the fireplace besides Sirius’. They were grinning broadly at them both, though neither Lydia or Harry were feeling particularly happy about anything that was happening. They were both too busy worrying about the Defence Group that Hermione had suggested._

_“What's up, kids?” James asked, his smile faltering slightly._

_“Umbridge isn't letting us do magic in class. We’re not learning anything!” Harry said furiously._

_“But, Hermione has come up with an idea for Harry and I...well, to teach defence, you know?” Lydia explained, “And I don't know how much of a good idea it is,”_

_“You're talking to two illegal animagus,” James reminded her._

_“And I'm on the run from the Ministry of Magic,” Sirius pointed out, “This sounds like an amazing idea - do you really think that your dad, Remus and me would lie back and allow Umbridge to walk all over us? Nah, you need to do something about it!”_

_“Speaking as your dad - you probably shouldn't do it, but speaking as your dad who happens to be James Potter, you should definitely do it and I will be more disappointed if you never do it than if you get expelled,” James said._

_The memory shifted and it was Christmas at Grimmauld Place. Lydia was trying to take part in the festivities as much as possible, but she felt terrible. She was worried about Harry, worried about Voldemort and worried about whether George would like his the Christmas present she got him or not. She sat in the kitchen with the others, her head in her hands. James came and sat down to her._

_"What's wrong with you?" He asked._

_"Everything," she muttered, "But I don't want to talk about it. Can we talk about something else?"_

_"Sure - I heard Ron's on the Quidditch team," He said_

_"Yeah. He's not...the best, I don't think. Which I suppose is good for me as a Slytherin, but terrible for me as his best friend, you know?"_

_"Me and Sirius made Remus and Pete tryout one year. It didn't go well,"_

_There was a tense silence after this. This was the first time she had ever heard her father talk about Peter Pettigew. It seemed to be a topic he went out of his way to avoid. Not that she blamed him._

_"I think about him sometimes, you know,"_

_"Peter Pettigew?" Lydia asked._

_"We called him Wormy. I loved him. We all did. And I just...I wonder what went wrong. What did we do wrong?" He said._

_"I don't think you did anything wrong," said Lydia carefully, "It was him who did something wrong. He betrayed you and mum,"_

_Tears sprung to his eyes at the mention of Lydia._

_"I miss her. So much,"_

_"I know. I do," Lydia admitted, "I didn't really know her, but I miss her,"_

_James smiled at her. "She would have been so proud of you. Proud of you both. After everything that you've both been through and the way you're both so strong," He drew a shaky breath, "I see a lot of your mother in you,"_

_"I don't know..." Lydia said. She thought about all the lovely things that people had told her about Lily Evans and all the not so nice things that people had said to her._

_"No, really," He said, "You have her mannerisms, you're both terrifying when you're angry," he laughed quietly, "And you're as kind as she was. Lily was always fond of Pete, probably more than anyone else. She was always the one person who'd stay up with him in the library or the common room to help him with a spell or essay when the rest of us got frustrated with him. And Remus told me about what you were like in third year with Neville Longbottom. He said you always helped him with Transfiguration,"_

_Lydia shrugged, "Neville is my friend,"_

_"Yes, and Pete was ours. He was our_ best _friend. And we left him behind. And for a kid who probably feels left behind all the time, the fact that Lydia Potter, of all people, helps him probably means everything. You're stopping him from becoming the next Peter Pettigrew,"_

Lydia opened her eyes again and quickly wiped her tears away. Remus had just finished his eulogy and had sat back down besides her. When he saw her crying, he sighed and put his arm around her, which only made her cry more.  

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Remus whispered.

“Me too,” Lydia said.

When the funeral ended, they congregated in a muggle pub and took over a private room to limit the funny stares they go from the poor Muggles who had just come into their local for a pint. Lydia did her best to walk around and mingle. As it was her dads funeral, she felt obliged to do that.

“Potter,” Urquhart said, walking over to her and looking awkward, “I-I just thought I'd come and pay my respects to your dad. You were a fantastic Quidditch player, after all, and, even though you cursed me like...all the time, I don't hate you,”

Lydia raised her eyebrows at him. That was the Slytherin equivalent to confessing his undying love for her. “Yeah, uh, I’ll see you soon,”.

He shook her hand, smiled at her slightly and left the pub. Lydia watched him go and her heart felt strangely heavy - watching her Quidditch captain walk away from her made her feel like she was closing the lid on that part of her life. In fact, the more Hogwarts students that came up to her and said goodbye, the more she felt like she was saying goodbye to the castle herself. She didn't really expect to see it again.

Daphne and Astoria walked over to her. Both with tears in their eyes.

“Your dad was always very nice to us,” Astoria said, “Despite the Slytherin thing,”

Lydia smiled at her. “Yes. It's strange, isn't it, when people are nice to you despite the Slytherin thing,”

Daphne looked at her and then hugged her, taking her by surprise. “I know you're not coming back next year. I know you're going to go after him and all I can say is, be careful,”

“How do you know I’m-?”

“I’ve lived with you for six years, Lydia. You always do the right thing, even it means your life is made harder,” Daphne said, “You made a point of becoming friends with Muggleborns, you refused to laugh at Neville Longbottom with Parkinson when the rest of us did because you were better than that. You’re the bravest person I know, Lydia,”

When she walked away, George sidled over to her. “Outside?”

She quickly nodded, feeling like she was suffocating. They found a bench behind the back of the pub away from everyone. The sun was warm on the top of Lydia's head and she wondered how on earth the weather could be so nice when so much was wrong. George put his arm around her and held on so tightly, it was like he was scared she was going to disappear.

“Harry and Ginny broke up, because he's going after You-Know-Who,” George said carefully and Lydia knew what was coming.

“I know I said I wasn't going to go after him but-”

“I know,” George said quickly, “I know,”

“George, I might not survive this,”

“I might not, either,” He said, far too casually, “Harry might not. McGonagall might not. Nothing is guaranteed apart from the simple fact that we might not survive,”

Lydia nodded.

“If he kills me-”

“You don't need to say anything, Lyds. I already know,”

“I know it'd probably be safer to break up but I just can't. I don't have it in me,”

“Neither do I,” he admitted.

Lydia shook her head as tears sprung to her eyes again, “But they might come after you. He might come after you-”

“Let him come,”

And Lydia knew that he was being serious.

“I wish the most stressful thing in my life was still just the fact that I'd been sorted into Slytherin and not Gryffindor,” Lydia sighed.

“I don't know what you're talking about, it's still the most stressful thing in my life,” George said.

Lydia laughed.

“We should probably go back inside and pretend we just didn't have a conversation that no teenagers should have,”

“You're right. We probably should go and do that,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the true writer I am, I went to a coffee shop twice (!!) today and got this chapter written. I even managed to get a start on the next chapter! I think the latest that that will be up is Friday but don't take my word for it because the Deathly Hallows stuff is starting and it might take me a while to get into the swing of things for that, but I do have it all planned out and know exactly what's going to happen. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E.


	16. The Eight Potters

Lydia Potter woke up on her final day at the Dursleys after years of feeling like the day would never come. She sat cross legged on her bed, looking around at the room she had spent so many years hating. Fabio was sleeping next to her. Neither Uncle Vernon nor Aunt Petunia were aware that Fabio existed, and she was more than happy to keep it that way. Though there had been a strange moment with Dudley the previous day.

She had gone down to the kitchen in what she had assumed was an empty house and found Dudley stood eating cereal. Lydia had screamed and almost dropped Fabio on the floor. She glared at him as though he didn't have a right to eat cereal in his own house.

“Is that a Pom-Pom?” Dudley asked, pointing at Fabio.

“No, it's Fabio,” she said bluntly.

At that moment, Harry had burst into the room, wand out.

“Death Eaters?” He asked.

“No. Dudley,”

“Oh,” he said. He stuck is wand back in his pocket. “Hi Fabio,” he added, stroking the Pygmy Puff, who squeaked happily.

Dudley yelled and jumped backwards, spilling cereal all down himself. “It's alive?”

“It's a Pygmy Puff,” Lydia explained, “George got him me,”

Dudley blinked at them stupidly. “George?”

“My boyfriend,” She said. “He owns a - you know what? It doesn't matter,” she crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for something to feed to him. Finally, she settled on some lettuce and Fabio sat on her shoulder, happily munching on it and looking at Dudley, who looked like he was going to collapse.

Harry cleared his throat and awkwardly leant back against the wall. It was then that Lydia realised that she and Harry had not been alone with Dudley in a long time. In fact, she was quite sure that they never had been.

“So - um, your dad is al-”

“No,” Lydia said quickly, “He got killed at the end of last term,”

He blinked again.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I guess...”

Harry and Lydia glanced at each other.

“Alright,” Harry said, clapping his hands together, “this has been weird. I am leaving,”

“Right behind you,”

She heard the door open and close downstairs and jumped off her bed, looking out of her window. She watched as the Dursley’s packed their car, feeling a strange emotion that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't that she would miss them, because she knew for a fact that she wouldn't but this was where she had lived her entire life. Before he got into the car, Dudley turned around and looked up at the house. For a moment, they stood staring at each other and then he waved, and, even stranger, Lydia waved back. And then they were gone.

There was a gentle knock on her bedroom door and Harry walked in. He ran and hand through his hair and tried to smile at her.

“Are you ready?”

No.

“Yeah,” she said, picking her bag off the floor and following him downstairs.

The house was eerily quiet. Usually, Lydia was used to hearing the sounds of Petunia pottering around in the kitchen and Uncle Vernon shouting down the phone at one of his new employees whilst Dudley crashed around his bedroom. Harry whistled as he moved around the house and packed and re-packed his bag at least five times. Hedwig watched him from her cage and Fabio had fallen asleep on her shoulder, and Lydia was sure that he was snoring.

Now, more than ever, Lydia wished that she had her dad to talk to. The moment he was killed and Horcruxes plagued her nightmares. It was all she could think about. That, an whoever R.A.B was. Lydia had done what Hermione would do in a time of great crisis and gone through every book she owned trying to decipher who it could be, but there was no name in any history book or Defence Against the Dark Arts book that matched the initials ‘R.A.B’. Harry hadn't done any research and had instead taken to reading the obituary that Elphias Doge had written about Dumbledore over and over again. The eulogy that Professor McGonagall had written for James had also been published in the Daily Prophet, but Lydia wasn't even close to being ready to reading that. She wasn't sure that she would ever be.

It had been over a month since James had died, but she still couldn't think of I'm without tears sprinting to her eyes and being paralysed by her own grief. It came in waves; there would be hours, or even days, when she would be fine. When she could just act as though it had never happened and pretended that he had never come back from the dead in the first place and she didn't know what it was like to have a dad. But then there were days when she woke up and couldn't get out of bed because even that was too painful. Those were the worse days; they were the days when she wondered if any of this was worth it. Was hunting Horcruxes the right thing to do? What if Dumbledore had got it wrong? What if the Horcruxes didn't make killing Voldemort any easier? What would they do then?

Lydia had yet to grieve for Albus Dumbledore, and she wasn't sure that she ever would. Harry looked at him like he was a hero, but Lydia saw him as quite the opposite; he was the greatest wizard to ever live, he shouldn't have been able to be killed by Severus Snape. He should have known what was going to happen and stopped it before it was too late. And, more importantly, Lydia thought, if he had known that Lydia would have had to go and find this Horcruxes with Harry, why hadn't he forced her to realise this? During her previous year at Hogwarts, he had spoken to her a grand total of two times and had managed to put her in a bad mood both times.

A deafening roar from the back garden rent the silence and Lydia jerked backwards, hitting her head against the wall. Harry glanced at Lydia and then ran into the kitchen, opening the back door. She looked over and a wide grin split across her face. Hagrid came in first, cowering under the low door frame. Following Hagrid came Mad-Eye Moody, his magical eye whizzing all over the place. Fred and George came next, followed by Mr Weasley, Charlie Weasley and Ron, who seemed to be glaring at the back of the twins heads. Hermione beamed at her from the door and stood next to Bill and Fleur. Remus, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mundungus Fletcher took up the rear, shutting the door behind them.

“I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister, Kingsley?” Harry called across the room.

“He can look after himself for one night. Now, you two are the most important,” he replied.

“Hey, Lydia, guess what!” Tonks said from where she was sat on the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at her where a ring glittered.

“You're married?” Lydia yelped, looking over at Lupin.

“We would have loved you and Harry to be there, but it was very quiet and-”

“We’ll have time for a cosey catch up later!” Mad-Eye barked.

Lydia looked over at Mad-Eye, “I didn't think there were going to be so many of you. I thought it was just you and Remus coming over to take us to The Burrow by side-along Apparition,”

“That was the plan,” Mad-Eye growled, “Pius Thicknesse has gone over and he's made it an imprisonable offence to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, of course, seeing as your mother’s charm stops that already. What he's really done is stop you getting out of here safely-”

“Why don't we just walk down the street and then Apparate from there then?” Lydia asked.

Mad-Eye glared at her, “You're both underage. You still have the Trace on you. If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse will know, and so will the Death Eaters,”

“Can't we just wait till we’re seventeen? It's only in a week-”

“No, because that's when they think we’re moving you. Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper,”

“Right,” Lydia said quietly, folding her arm. “So the plan is...”

“To get you both out of here using the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use of on them: brooms, Thestrals and Hagrid’s motorbike,” He explained, “Your mother’s charm will only break under two conditions; when you come or age, or, when you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle went your separate ways tonight in the full understanding hat you're never going to live together again, correct?”

Lydia and Harry nodded.

“So this time when you leave, there's no going back and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. The alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and kill you the moment you turn seventeen,”

“Lovely,” Lydia said, “This should be fun.”

“I imagine they’ll be some Death Eaters patrolling the the skies so we have a dozen different houses to go to - Kingsley's place, my house, Molly’s Auntie Muriel's house - you get the idea. Lydia, you’ll be going to the Weasley’s Uncle Jamie's and Harry you'll be going to Tonks’ parents house,”

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly, “But, won't they know which one we’re going to because they’ll just have to follow us?”

“No,” said Moody, “Because they’ll be more than one Harry and Lydia Potter flying tonight and each one will be going somewhere different,” He pulled two flasks of what looked like mud from his robes and Lydia automatically recognised what it was was from her second year.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lydia said. 

“No! No way!” Harry said.

“None of us really fancy it, Harry,” Fred said, “What if we get stuck as a specky, scrawny git forever?”

“I won't let you do it!” Harry snapped.

“I told you he'd take it well,” Hermione sighed.

“I don't want you to risk your lives for me-”

Ron gave an odd cough which sounded an awful lot like “McGonagall’s chess game,”.

“You can't do it I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair,” Harry pointed out.

“Well, that's the plan scuppered,” said George, “Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate,”

“Yeah, all of us against once bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we’ve got no chance,” Fred said.

“You’ll notice your sister isn't complaining, Potter,” Mad-Eye growled.

Lydia looked up and shrugged, “I just assumed there's no getting out of it,”

“Fred, George, Ron and Mundungus will be turning into Harry-”

“Do I not exist anymore?” Lydia asked.

“Only Fleur and Hermione will be turning into you,” Mad-Eye said, “After your previous school year, You-Know-Who won't expect you to be together,”

Lydia raised her eyebrows, “Oh,” She turned to Harry and shrugged, “Honestly, we don't have a choice. You might as well get over it,”

He glared at her and then tore pieces of hair from his scalp. Lydia smiled at him and then did the same thing, dropping the hair into the Polyjuice potion. It bubbled for a moment and then turned a pleasant white colour.

“Oooh, Lydia, you look much tastier than Millicent Bulstrode!” Hermione said brightly.

“I can account for-” George began but Lydia cut across him.

“Other people present!”

George glanced at Mr Weasley, “Sorry, dad,”

“I didn't hear anything, George,” Mr Weasley said.

It was a very strange sight, watching Fleur and Hermione turn into her. They both grew taller, and Fleur’s skin and hair went darker. By the time they had finished turning into her, Lydia decided that she never wanted to do anything like this again. Mad-Eye handed them a bunch of clothes.

“Get changed,” He said, and then he turned to the others and held out the Polyjuice Potion.

Lydia turned back round to Fleur and Hermione and realised that they were getting changed in front of everyone. At first, she didn't mind, but then she remembered that they were identical to her and suddenly felt very insecure.

“Hey! Could you two give me a bit more privacy - George! Stop looking at Hermione!”

“Sorry! But she looks like you!”

Once everyone had turned into Harry and Lydia couldn't even remember if she was the real Lydia Potter or not, Mad-Eye looked over the group, “All right. We’ll all be pairing up with someone - Ron, you're with Tonks. Fred, you're with your dad, George, you're with Remus, Fleur, you're with Bill-” Fleur gave Bill a look that Lydia hoped would never be on her face again, “Hermione, you're with Kingsey, Mundungus, you're with me, Harry is with Hagrid and Lydia you are with Charlie,”

“Is there dragons involved?” Lydia asked Charlie hopefully.

“No,” he said, looking thoroughly putout.

“Damn,” she said.

“I know,” he sighed, “But there are Thestrals involved which is that little bit more exciting,”

“Can you see-”

“Nope!” He said brightly, “Which is why it's so exciting!”

Lydia turned to George. “I think I'm going to die tonight,”

“That's what it's like spending time with Charlie,” he shrugged. Remus called him over and he leant towards her. Lydia yelped and jumped back.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,”

“No, you're not! You look like my brother,”

A look of disgust overcame his face and he jerked away from her. “This is the worst plan ever,” and he stomped away.

In the back garden, brooms were flying into hands and Hermione was being helped onto a Thestrals by Kingsley. Lydia sniggered as Harry clambered into a tiny sidecar attached to Hagrid’s flying motorbike. Charlie was stood staring in the complete wrong direction of the Thestral and Lydia had to steer him in the right direction, and then help him actually get on it. If possible, her confidence plummeted even further than it had since Mad-Eye had told them what was quite a terrible plan.

“All right,” Mad-Eye yelled over the sound of the Hagrid’s motorbike, “Everyone ready, please, we need to leave at the same time or the whole point of the diversion is lost,”

“Do you want me to take Fabio? There's food he’ll like in my pocket,” Charlie said, holding his hand out. Lydia decided not to ask why he had food in his pocket and instead just handed Fabio over to him.

“On the count of three! One, two, three-”

The motorbike gave a deafening roar and the Thestral spread its wings and took off from the ground. Lydia screamed and grabbed Charlie around the waist, screwing her eyes shut and deciding that she only ever wanted to ride brooms from this moment on. For thirty seconds, nothing happened, and then they were surrounded.

Cloaked figures rose up around them on broomsticks. Killing curses flew around them and Lydia ducked under them, trying to get her wand out of her jeans. More and more curses soared over them and her wand somehow managed to get stuck in her belt loop. The Thestral suddenly dived and Lydia finally managed to pull her wand out of her jeans.

_“Stupefy!”_ She yelled. The curse completely missed the Death Eater but it did cause them to fall back out of fear. Another Death Eater appeared behind her and she felt a white hot burning sensation as a spell streaked past her face. In front of her, Charlie groaned as more and more Death Eaters surrounded them.

_“Immobulus!”_ Lydia said, as a Death Eater raised his wand, _“Protego!”_

Charlie swore as a Death Eater actually reached out and grabbed his arm. Lydia shifted forward and looked over his shoulder, shouting the first spell that came to mind, _“Difindo!”_ The Death Eater yelled out and flew away from them, holding his arm to his chest.

“Did I get you?” Lydia asked Charlie.

“No!” He yelled, he looked around, “Where’ve they all gone?”

Lydia opened her mouth to respond but there was a searing pain in her forehead. Knowing exactly what was happening, she turned to her left and looked into the red eyes of Lord Voldemort, he wasn't flying on a broom or even a Thestral. There just seemed to be a cloud of grey smoke underneath him. Charlie swore and reached for his wand.

Before either of them could cast the first spell, the Thestral went into another deep dive and Lord Voldemort suddenly disappeared. They landed gently in a small garden. Lydia slid off the Thestral and stumbled slightly, looking around and expecting Lord Voldemort to emerge from the shadows, but no one came. Charlie jumped down from the Thestral and looked over at the bungalow attached to the garden. A light switched on and the back door was thrown open.

At first, Lydia thought that it was Ron, but then she blinked and realised that it couldn't be Ron because this man was in his late thirties, and not nearly as freckly. Charlie let out a sigh of relief and walked over to hug him. Lydia hung back slightly, still gripping her wand tightly and looking around. Why had Voldemort backed away? That wasn't the sort of thing that he would do.

“There's no dragon in my garden, is there?” Not-Ron asked.

“Mad-Eye wouldn't allow us,” Charlie sighed. He glanced back round at Lydia, “Don't worry, Lydia. He’s not going to be able to get to us,”

“Yeah,” Lydia said quietly, “I know, but I don't understand why he didn't just kill me straight away. That's what he usually does,” she shoved her wand back in her jeans.

“I’m Jamie, by the way,” he said, rushing forward to shake her hand, “The Order of the Phoenix have put every single protection possible on this house. There's no way any of them can get in. Even You-Know-Who.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lydia said, forcing a smile onto her face and following him and Charlie into the house. It was very cosy, but Lydia didn't take much notice. Lydia was still expecting Lord Voldemort to appear out of nowhere.

“Where's the Portkey?” Charlie asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.

Jamie indicated a broken bowl on the side. “You're early, though. You still have ten minutes,”

Charlie nodded and reached into his pocket, taking Fabio out. Amazingly, he was asleep peacefully. Lydia took him and placed him back on her shoulder. Jamie looked at Fabio and laughed slightly.

“Fred and George?”

“Yep,” Charlie said, yawning, “It's a Pygmy Puff,”

“Cute,” Jamie said, “Does anyone want food?”

Lydia gratefully accepted a sandwich off Jamie and ate it in silence. Every noise made her jump and twice, she mistook Fabio’s sleepy squeaks as the sound of the front door opening, and Voldemort coming in.

“Portkeys ready,” Charlie said suddenly.

Lydia jumped up at once and all fears of Voldemort disappeared, only to be replaced with fears of the others. Were they OK? We're they alive? Had Voldemort mistook one of the fake Harry or Lydia's for the real one? If he had done that, and someone was dead because of them, she wasn't sure that she would ever be able to forgive herself.

She took Fabio off her shoulder and held onto him tightly before grabbing ahold of the broken bowl. She turned around to Jamie.

“Thank-you for the food,”

“No problem,” He said, “I’ll see you both at the wedding,”

There was a jerk around her navel and Lydia’s feet left the ground for a moment before she landed in the front garden of The Burrow. Lydia dropped the bowl to the floor and looked up at the house, automatically she felt herself begin to calm down. She often felt that nothing could hurt them under the protection of Mrs Weasley’s cooking.

“Lydia! You're back!” Hermione yelled, running over to her.

“‘Mione, you're ok-OUCH!” Someone grabbed her shoulder and yanked her away from Hermione. She spun around and came face to face with Remus Lupin who was pointing his wand at her chest. “Remus? What are you-where's George?” 

“When Lydia Potter had a drink with me in my study, what did we talk about?” He asked.

“What?”

“What did we talk about it?” He asked.

“Um-I don't know, I was thirteen!” When he prodded her with his wand, she realised how serious he was, “All right! We talked about why I got sorted into Slytherin, didn't we?”

Finally, Remus put his wand down and sighed. “I'm sorry, I had to check. Someone betrayed us, tonight,”

“And it wasn't going to be me, was it?” She snapped. She looked around again, “Where's George?”

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again.

Lydia took a step towards him. “Remus. Where is he?”

“He's inside,” Hermione said in a small voice, “Oh, Lydia...”

“He's not...no, Hermione, don't tell me he’s...”

“No, no,” she said quickly, “No, he's...oh, Lydia, it's awful! He's lost an ear,”

“He's lost a-” Lydia faltered.

Hermione grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room. George was lay on one of the couches with Mrs Weasley bent over him, her wand out, sobbing quietly. Ginny was stood in the corner, her hand over her mouth. Ever so slowly, Lydia walked over to him and it took every bone in her body to not throw up. There was a gaping hole in the left side of his head and blood was pouring down his face and onto his t-shirt.

“Georgie,” Lydia whispered, crouching down at the couch.

He opened his eyes and smiled, “Oh, hi, Lydia,” he croaked, “you are my Lydia, aren’t you?”

She nodded, “Yeah,”

He smiled again, “I only have one ear,”

“Yeah,” Lydia agreed, unsure of what else to say, “You only have one ear,”

“I'm a one-eared wonder,”

“That's not even a proper joke,” she said.

“Got a proper good one, but I'm saving it for when everyone else comes. You’ll see,”

“What happened?” Lydia asked Remus who had come into the room.

“It was Snape,” He said bitterly, “Sectumsempra,”

Lydia clenched her jaw and tried to stay calm for George’s sake, who was still awake and looking up at her. There was sudden banging from the kitchen and then Lydia heard Mr Weasley yell, “I’LL ANSWER YOUR BLOODY QUESTIONS ONCE I SEE MY SON!” As he and Fred burst into the room, Lydia jumped back from the bed.

“What happened?” Fred asked Lydia, looking down at his twin.

“Snape,”

“How’re you feeling, Georgie?” Fred asked quietly.

“Saint-like,” George whispered.

“What?”

“Saint-like, Fred. I'm Holey,” he said, pointing at his ear, “Get it?”

“Pathetic,” Fred said, “Out of all the jokes in the world of ear-related humour, you go for _Holey_?”

“Harry's back,” Mrs Weasley said, looking out of the window

Lydia jumped up and ran into the back garden, throwing herself at Harry who almost fell backwards. Hermione wasn't far behind her.

“You're alive,” Lydia whispered.

“Yeah, very much alive,” he whispered back.

“Where’s Hedwig?” She asked.

 

The silence she was met with told her everything.

“Who’s blood is that?” Harry asked hurriedly.

“Georges,” Lydia explained, “But don't worry,” she added, “He lost an ear-”

“He lost an-”

Remus shoved Lydia and Hermione out of the way and pointed his wand at Harry who looked shocked.

“Wha-”

“What creature was sat in the corner of my office the first time Harry Potter visited it?”

Harry look aghast, “A Grindylow, wasn't it?”

Lupin lowered his wand, “I have to check. Someone betrayed us,” he looked at Lydia, “What happened?”

“I-I don't know. We were in the air and then we were just surrounded by Death Eaters. I fought most of them off and then Voldemort appeared. Remus, he can-”

“Fly, I know,” he said, “We saw him, but then he disappeared. Probably to go after one of you two,”

“Did you see him?” Lydia asked Harry.

“Yeah,” he said, “I cast _Expelliarmus_ and then one of the Death Eaters shouted, “it's him! He's the real one!” And he appeared,” He paused, “And then this really weird thing happened with my wand. It did magic that I didn't control. It's like...it knew what to do before I did,”

Remus completely disregarded the last bit of what Harry said, “You disarmed someone? Harry! You can't let that become your signature spell! You're easily identifiable that way! Voldemort probably didn't realise that Lydia was the real one because she didn't do what she would normally do!”

“Which is?” Lydia asked.

A dark look suddenly overtook Remus’ face. “You’ve developed a reputation for being quite ruthless. You're the Potter kid who’ll kill, if she has to,”

Lydia didn't say anything, and she was saved from having to by a cry from Mrs Weasley as Ron and Tonks came back. Ron jumped down from the Thestral just as his hair was turning red again and took the glasses off and dropping them to the floor.

“Is everything OK?” He asked as he hugged Lydia.

“Well, George lost an ear,”

Ron looked at her as if he couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

“He lost a what?”

“An ear,” Hermione said, “Snape's work, but he’s-”

Mrs Weasley cried again as Bill and Fleur arrived, both looking shaken. Lydia looked around at everyone assembled in the garden and realised that Mad-Eye and Mundungus were missing.

“Mad-Eye’s dead,” Bill said.

Fleur sobbed quietly and Tonks turned away from them all. Lydia knew that she and Mad-Eye were close and that she looked up to him. When Tonks was training to be an Auror, she had worked closely with him. Slowly, they walked back into the house where Fred and Mr Weasley were still stood with George. Ron looked at his brother and paled.

“Hey, Ron, Bill...want to hear a-“

“Mad-Eyes dead,”

Mr Weasley sank into a chair, his head in his hands. Fred looked at the floor. No one seemed to know what to say. Hagrid stood hunched behind the couch, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Where’s Mundungus?” Kingsley asked.

“Ran off,” Bill said nastily, “He saw You-Know-Who and ran. Mad-Eye got a killing curse full in the face and fell from his broom,”

Lydia sat herself down next to Ginny, who was staring at Harry. Mrs Weasley bustled into the kitchen and brought out a bottle of Fire-Whiskey, and poured a glass for each of them.

“To Mad-Eye,” Remus said, holding up his glass.

“Mad-Eye,” they all echoed, though Hagrid did so a little later and with a slight hiccup.

She drank the Fire-Whiskey and the burning sensation it left seemed to open her eyes to how serious everything had just gotten. Mad-Eye didn’t seem like the kind of person that could ever die. Lydia looked over at George, still covered in blood and looking deathly pale and then at Tonks, who was still crying. All of this, had been because of her and Harry.

“Don’t go blaming yourself,” Ginny said quietly.

“What?” Lydia said, looking at her.

“I know what you’re like, what you’re both like,” she added, looking over at Harry, “you’re going to try and blame yourselves for what happened tonight and it’s not your fault. All of this is so much bigger than you, so much bigger than all of us. Everyone here knew what they were getting themselves into it,”

“I know, but-“

“There is no but,” Ginny said firmly, “this isn’t about you. It’s about killing You-Know-Who,”

Lydia wished that she could tell Ginny that it was all about them, because killing You-Know-Who was all that they were needed for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might just be the longest chapter I’ve ever written! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! I can’t wait to get properly into all the Deathly Hallows stuff, however depressing it might be. 
> 
> Also, I was going to kill Fabio along with Hedwig but I couldn’t bring myself to do it so now I need to work out what I’m going to do with him. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E.


	17. The Last Will and Testament of Albus Dumbledore

The Burrow was the busiest that Lydia had ever seen it. Charlie was now staying there for the wedding, and Order members were constantly in and out of the black door, relaying depressing information that Lydia felt she could have gone without hearing. On top of all this, Mrs Weasley had gone into overdrive for Fleur's parents were due to arrive in a few days. Anyone who wasn't a member of the Order were running around trying to make The Burrow look less crazy, which Lydia found quite upsetting. Lydia felt comfortable in the bizarreness of the whole place, but Mrs Weasley had obviously decided that the Delacours would not.

The Gnomes were kicked out of the garden, the chickens cooped up and the yard cleaned. Inside, the kitchen was organised, the living room was tidied and the stairs were cleared of everything that the Weasley children kept on them. It was starting to look like a completely different house. If it weren't for the clock that was kept over the mantelpiece that showed the members of the family, Lydia would think that she had come to the wrong place.

The day the Delacours arrived was possibly the most stressful day of Lydia’s life. Mrs Weasley woke them all up at sunrise and had them giving the house one last clean. Though, Lydia didn't get a lot of cleaning done as she had to keep on prodding George in the side to stop him from falling asleep standing up. Fabio wasn't helping things, either, he kept on jumping off her shoulder and rolling away from her.

“Potter! Fabio is chewing my shoe again!” Ron yelled at her.

“Sorry! I can't control him!” Lydia said, running over to him and tearing Fabio away from Ron’s shoe. Lydia put Fabio back on her shoulder, “I think I got the one Pygmy Puff who does more than just sleep and squeak,”

“They’re here!” Mrs Weasley cried, running through the kitchen and trying to smooth her robes, “They’re here! They’re here, come on, everyone! Outside!”

Ron groaned and followed his mother out of the house and into the front yard. Lydia grabbed George and pulled him after her. Fred hit him round the head to try and wake him up, but it didn't quite have the effect that he had hoped for. Mrs Weasley was trying to smooth Harry’s hair down whilst telling Ron that he needed to tuck his t-shirt in.

Mr Weasley appeared at the gate of The Burrow laden with luggage and leading a beautiful blonde woman who could only be Fleur’s mother. Behind them, a short man with dark hair, who Lydia assumed to be Monsieur Delacour followed them with the now eleven year old Gabrielle Delacour hanging onto his hand.

“Maman! Papa!” Fleur cried, running over to them and hugging them. When she hugged her father, Lydia had to look away and was once again reminded by how much she missed James.

“Welcome, welcome!” Mrs Weasley said, going to greet them, “These are our children - Charlie, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Harry, Lydia and Hermione,” Lydia felt herself go red at being referred to as one of the Weasley children, “Please, do come in, do come in,”

After many cries of, “after you!” - “no after you!”, they eventually made it into the house. As they usually did when new people were introduced into their lives, Harry and Lydia blended into the background as the Delacours were shown around the house. Ron and Hermione managed to get away and sidled over to them.

“I’ll be thankful when this wedding is over,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes, “It's too stressful for-”

“Ron, could be a dear and tidy your room?” Mrs Weasley asked, “And Hermione, Ginny could do with some help sorting out the wedding gifts,” When Ron and Hermione had gone, Mrs Weasley turned to Lydia, “Could you please help Charlie with setting the table outside? There's not enough to room for us to eat inside,”

Mrs Weasley was hellbent on keeping Lydia, Harry, Hermione and Ron apart. It was no secret that the four of them were not planning on returning to Hogwarts for their seventh year, but Mrs Weasley was not happy about it. Both Mr Weasley and Remus had asked Lydia what they were planning on doing, and when she told them it was something that Dumbledore had asked them to, they quickly backed away. Mrs Weasley, on the other hand, wasn't backing away and Lydia was sure that she were keeping them apart so that they couldn't plan anything.

Surprisingly, the Delacours were a nice addition to The Burrow. Monsieur Delacour had the kind of unending happiness that rivalled even that of Professor Slughorn and Madame Delacour had a knack for household spells that meant that the total amount of chores had dwindled greatly. Gabrielle followed her sister around, talking in rapid fire French.

The day before her and Harry’s seventeenth birthday, Lydia had finished cleaning the kitchen, she escaped upstairs to the room that Harry, Ron, Fred and George were sharing. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat cross legged on the floor as though they didn't have one million and three things to do for Mrs Weasley.

“Why are you sorting out books, Hermione?” Lydia asked, watching as she dropped books into different piles.

“I’m packing in case we have to leave at short notice. I packed your bag for you, by the way,” she added, dropping a potions book on the left pile.

“I know you like reading, Hermione, but I don't think there's going to be a lot of time for it,” Lydia said, sitting next to Harry, “Unless you want to throw books at Death Eaters,” she added, “Because even I can get behind that,”

Hermione laughed and shook her head, dropping one last book onto the pile. She grabbed a small beaded bag that Lydia had gotten her the previous Christmas and carefully placed the books inside of it. Harry stared at it open mouthed.

“How are you fitting everything in that?” He asked.

Hermione smiled at him, “It has a undetectable Extension Charm and a Weightlessness Charm on it,” she explained, “Lydia got it me for Christmas last year,”

“I got the idea from Fred and George after they put an Extension Charm on Marcus Flint and he fell into his bag and couldn't get out,” Lydia shrugged.

“You know, there's not been anything in the Daily Prophet about Mad-Eye dying,” Harry said, “I keep on checking but there's been nothing written,”

“Of course there hasn't been anything written,” Lydia said, “Mad-Eye isn't the kind of person who would die. If people knew that both he and Dumbledore died within weeks of each other, they'd know how serious everything actually is,”

“Still, you'd think they'd have found a body,” Ron said.

Harry shook his head.

“Nah, the Death Eaters probably took care of that,” he said grimly, “Probably did the same thing they did to Mr Crouch and transfigured him into a bone or something,”

Hermione suddenly burst into tears. Harry looked shocked and tried to get to her, but they were sat on a camp bed that was very difficult to get off. Ron gave Harry a disgusted look and bounded over to her. He took a dirty handkerchief from his pocket and tapped it with his wand.

“Scourgify!”

Most of the dirt disappeared off it and he smiled, handing it over to her and put his arm around her. Lydia glanced at Harry and raised her eyebrows, but he just shook his head and looked at his hands.

“I'm s-sorry,” Hermione said, wiping her eyes, “I just can't believe he's gone,”

“I know,” Ron said, “But if he was here, what would he say?”

“C-constant Vigilance?” Hermione said in a quiet voice.

“Exactly!” Ron said.

Hermione smiled at him and quickly jumped up, running over to the corner and picking up a pile of clothes, shaking her head over and over again. Lydia dropped her head onto Harry’s shoulder, closing her eyes. Someone knocked on the door and it flew open. Lydia jumped and opened her eyes to find a haggard Mrs Weasley, glaring at them.

“Ronald, you are meant to be helping Fred and George clear the garden,” she said, “Hermione, could please help me in the kitchen?” And she left, slamming the door behind her.

Ron turned to Harry and Lydia and scowled at them. “At least you don't have to do anything,”

“Apart from kill the Dark Lord,” Lydia yawned.

Harry was silent for a while and Lydia walked around the room, clearing everything up whilst trying to work out how on earth boys could be so messy. If she came across one more pair of dirty socks, she thought she might kill every single one of them the moment she turned seventeen.

“Do you think he was there?” Harry asked, stroking Fabio.

“Who?” Lydia asked, although the she was quite sure who he was talking about.

“Draco,” he said, “Do you think he was there when we left Privet Drive?”

Lydia took a long time in folding one of Ron's jumpers, carefully thinking about what she was going to say next.

“I don't know,” she said, “You couldn't really tell who any of those Death Eaters were, could you?”

“What if he was killed?” He shook his head, “I don't even know why I care about him. He obviously never cared about me,”

“Harry, I don't think that's true,” she said, “When you were together, or whatever, was the happiest I've ever seen him. He was...tolerable,”

Without warning, her brother burst into tears. Lydia sighed and dropped the jumper she was holding, walking over to him. She sat down next to him and held his hand.

“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to,” Lydia said, “We can talk about something else-”

“I'm so confused,” he snapped, “I think I still like Ginny, but we obviously broke up, and I can't stop thinking about him, either,”

“Have you ever considered maybe...swearing off people forever?” Lydia asked.

“That's easy for you to say,” he muttered, “You’ve got George,”

“Yeah, but he's lost an ear,” Lydia sighed, “Have you heard how many ear jokes he makes in a two minute span?”

Harry laughed, “He needs to stop saying the one-eared wonder joke. I only laughed at him out of pity because he’d just lost an ear,”

“I couldn't even bring myself to laugh at him out of pity,” She sighed, “And that damn bandage...” She groaned, “he doesn't even have to wear it anymore!”

\---

Lydia was woken up on the morning of July 31st by Hermione and Ginny jumping on her and shouting “Happy Birthday!” in her face. She groaned and propped herself up one elbow as the blurry figures of her friends leaned over her.

“You know I can curse you now, right?” Lydia said, grinning.

“And I can curse you back,” Hermione said, holding a package in her hands, “Open your present!”

“I said no presents,”

“And I'm your best friend so that rule doesn't apply to me,” Hermione shrugged, handing it over to her, “Also, I've had this idea since we were in third year,”

Lydia frowned at her, “Why do I feel like there's a backstory to this?”

“Because there is,” Hermione beamed, “Do you remember when we first became friends outside potions? And then you sat next to me in class? What potion did we brew?”

“It was a forgetfulness one, wasn't it?”

“And what did you forget to put in it?”

Lydia grinned and opened the present. Inside, was a small box that contained a hair clip that had what Lydia recognised as Valerian sprigs attached to it. It was a potion lesson that would be ingrained in Lydia’s memory forever - she had gotten so caught up in talking to Hermione, that she had barely looked at the blackboard. That had been the first time that Professor Snape had shouted at her, but had not been the last.

“You've had this idea...since you were thirteen?”

Hermione nodded, “I have probably been more excited for you seventeenth birthday than you have,”

Downstairs, Mrs Weasley had prepared a massive birthday for both her and Harry and had promptly burst into tears when they both walked into the kitchen. Lydia suspected that this was because their father had been so close to seeing them come of age, and had missed out on it by a matter of months. Lydia tried not to think about that and busied herself with making a cup of tea.

“Now, dears, I know you both said you didn't want anything for your birthday but what we did get you came at no expensive,” Mrs Weasley said, “Arthur, dear-”

Mr Weasley walked over to them, holding something vaguely familiar in his hands. It took Lydia a few moments to realise that it was the clock that usually sat above the mantelpiece. Carefully, Mr Weasley placed it on the table in front of them and Lydia looked more closely at it. Her eyes slid over the usual hands and then came to rest o two new additions. It took a moment for her to realise that she and Harry now had hands on the clock.

“Mrs Weasley, I don't know what to say,” Harry said quietly.

“Neither do I,” Lydia said, looking up at them both, “I never thought you would - we’re not family, I-”

“Oh, Lydia,” Mrs Weasley said tearfully, “Of course you both are!” She hugged them both.

How Lydia got through breakfast without crying, she would never know. Harry didn't get through breakfast without crying and had to leave the table halfway through breakfast so that he could go and calm himself down.

“Lydia, could go and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow? I don't think we’ll have time today,” Mrs Weasley said.

Lydia thanked Mr and Mrs Weasley again and left the table, taking the stairs two steps at a time. This day was the first time that she hadn't thought about Voldemort or Horcruxes in weeks.

“Lyds,” George popped his head out of his bedroom door, “Come here,”

She smiled at him and followed him into the bedroom. Neither Ron nor Harry were anywhere to be seen and she assumed that Harry was still crying somewhere.

“Happy Birthday, Lydia,”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. She heard footsteps outside the door and she pulled away, but the footsteps carried on. He laughed and glanced at the door.

“Mum’ll have a fit if she sees this door shut,” he said.

“Providing Ron doesn't first,”

“I got you something for your birthday,” he said, “And I know you said you didn't want presents, but you never said that I couldn't not get you anything,”

“You really always find a way to bend the rules, don't you?”

“It's gotten easier as the years have gone on,” he glanced at the door again. “And I know that you're going away and that we don't see each other for a while, so I wanted to get you something small but...special,” He took a deep breath, “and I don't want you to freak out when you see this. It's not what you think but it's also not not what you think,”

“You're rambling,”

“I know,” He took another deep breath and held up a box. He opened it, revealing a small golden ring with a pearl on it.

Automatically, she took a step back from it. It looked like exactly what she thought it was.

“I'm not asking you to marry me,” he said quickly, “but I'm also not not asking you to marry me. I know it's only been three years and we’ve been in school for most of that but...it's now or never, right?” He shook his head, “there's no guarantee that either of us will survive this so, what's the point in waiting? I'd hate if something happened before I could- oh, you think I'm mad, don't you?”

Lydia launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. There was a small clatter as he dropped the box to the floor so he could kiss her back.

“I do think you're mad,” she said, “and that is why I'm agreeing to not not marry you, George Weasley,”

He grinned at her and picked the box back up. He gently slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

“It's a family heirloom,” he explained as she admired it, “mum gave it to me,”

“Your mum knows about this?”

“You know how much she loves a good wedding - and you,” he added. He glanced out the window, “if we ever make it to the wedding, we’re not having it here,”

“And you're not wearing that ridiculous bandage on your head,”

The door suddenly opened and they sprang apart. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway.

“Is that an engagement ring?” Hermione screamed, leaping over Ron’s bed and pulling Lydia's hand towards her.

“No but yes,” Lydia said, “it's an almost engagement ring,”

Ron burst into laughter and high fived his brother before turning to Lydia, “you're going to be a Weasley!” And then he burst into laughter again. Hermione squealed and hugged her and Lydia already knew that she was thinking about bridesmaids dresses because she herself was already thinking about bridesmaids dressed.

Once Hermione had pulled herself together and Ron had finished laughter, Lydia hesitantly looked over at Harry. He smiled at her and crossed the room, hugging her and whispering, “I’m happy for you, Lyds, I really am,” in ear. Lydia hugged him back tighter and tried not to think about how little time they might have left.

Later that evening, they held a birthday dinner outside for Lydia and Harry. Hagrid, Tonks and Remus had arrived a day early for the wedding for them. Lydia felt as though she had never been so happy. Mrs Weasley kept on looking at her left hand and crying. It happened so much that Lydia considered hiding her hand for the rest of the dinner.

Hagrid couldn't seem to be able to stop himself from crying, either.

“I can’ believe it!” He kept on repeating, “You two! I can’ wait fer the weddin’!”

“Do you think they realise we’re technically not engaged?” Lydia whispered.

“Just got with it,” Charlie said, spooning more food onto her plate, “Mum needs to think there's something on the other side of all this,”

“Aren't you full of all the joys of spring?” Fred said brightly.

Charlie looked at his brother. “It's summer,” He said bluntly.

“Oh, Merlin, it's the Minister!” Hermione said, suddenly standing up and pointing.

Lydia's head snapped up and, sure enough, Rufus Scrimgeour was limping over to them. He arrived at the table and his eyes slid over it, coming to rest on the two birthday cakes that sat at the end; one was in the shape of a Snitch, and the other a Quaffle. Lydia felt Harry tense next to her.

“Sorry to intrude, especially as I can see I am intruding on celebrations,” he looked at Lydia and Harry, “Happy Birthday,”.

“Thank-you,” Harry said. Lydia didn't say anything.

“As it happens, I would like a private words with you two-”

“Surprising,” Lydia muttered.

“-and Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger,”

Lydia raised her eyebrows and turned to Hermione, “Oh no, wait, that is surprising,”

“What do you want to talk to us for?” Ron asked.

“I shall tell you that when have moved somewhere more private,” he said, he turned to Mr Weasley, “is there such a place?”

“Yes, of course,” Mr Weasley said nervously, “Why don't you go to the sitting room? There's no one in the house,”

“You can lead the way,” Scrimgeour said. “There will be no need to accompany us, Arthur,”

Lydia saw Mr and Mrs Weasley exchange worried glances but they sat down. Lydia put her knife and fork down and followed Harry, Ron and Hermione into the house. She knew that the other three were thinking the same thing: Scrimgeour had somehow found out that they were dropping out of Hogwarts.

Scrimgeour did not speak as they walked through the kitchen and into the sitting room. Harry flicked his wand at the oil lamps as they entered and they illuminated the shabby but cosy room. Scrimgeour sat himself in the armchair that Mr Weasley usually occupied and Lydia, Harry, Ron and Hermione squeezed themselves onto the sofa.

“I have some questions for the four of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. Ronald, I’ll start with-”

“We’re not doing anything individually,” Lydia said quickly, “You can speak to us together, or not at all,”

Scrimgeour gave her a cold look and then shrugged. “Very well, then, together,” he cleared his throat, “I am here because of Albus Dumbledore’s will,”

Lydia glanced at Harry who was frowning at Scrimgeour.

“A surprise, apparently! You were not aware, then, that Dumbledore had left you anything?”

“A-all of us?” Ron said, “Me and Hermione too?”

“He left me something?” Lydia asked, shocked.

“Yes, all-”

But Harry interrupted.

“Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Hermione said, before Scrimgeour could answer. “They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!”

“I had every right,” said Scrimgeour, “The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will-”

“That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artefacts,” said Hermione, “and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased’s possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?”

“Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?” Scrimgeour asked.

“No, I'm not!” Hermione retorted, “I'm hoping to do some good in the world!”

“So why are you giving them us now?” Lydia asked.

“Because the thirty one days are up,” Hermione said at once, “and you couldn't find anything wrong with them, could you?”

Scrimgeour ignored Hermione and instead turned to Ron.

“Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?”

“Me? Uh-no, not really. It was always Harry who-”

Hermione was giving him a stop talking now look but the damage was already done. Scrimgeour smiled at Ron.

“If you weren't close, why did he leave you something?” He asked, “All of his possessions were left to Hogwarts, and yet he left something for you,”

“I dunno,” Ron said, “I always thought that he liked me,”

“Stop being modest, Ron,” Hermione said, “Dumbledore was very fond of you,”

Scrimgeour put his and inside his cloak and withdrew a drawstring pouch. From it, he removed a scroll of parchment, which he unrolled and read aloud.

“‘ _The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_ ,’”...yes, here we are.. _’to Ronald Billius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it_ ,”

Scrimgeour handed Ron an object that Lydia was sure she had seen before. It looked like a silver cigarette lighter, but she was sure that it was something more. Ron took it and turned it over in his fingers, looking stunned.

“That is a valuable object,” said Scrimgeour, “It may even be unique. It was, after all, one of Dumbledore's own designs. Why would Dumbledore leave you such a rare item?”

Ron looked bewildered.

“I don't know,”

“Dumbledore must have taught thousands and thousands of students,” Scrimgeour continued, “Yet the only ones he remembered in his will, were you. Why is that? To what use I'd he think you would put his Deluminator, Mr Weasley?”

“I don't know,” mumbled Ron, “Maybe he thinks I'll put lights out. What else would I do with it?”

Scrimgeour looked at him for a moment and then turned to Hermione.

_“‘To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive,_ ””

Scrimgeour then pulled out of the bag a small, ancient book. It's binding was stained and peeling in places. Hermione took it from Scrimgeour without a war and held the book in her lap. Lydia looked down at it. The title was in runes.

“Why do you think Dumbledore left you this book, Miss Granger?”

“Because he knew I liked books,” Hermione said, wiping at her eyes with sleeve.

“But why that particular book?”

“I don't know. He must have thought that I'd enjoy it,’

“Did you ever discuss codes with Dumbledore?”

Hermione shook her head, suppressing a sob. With some difficulty, Ron extracted his arm from the sofa and put it around Hermione's shoulder. Scrimgeour turned to Harry.

“” _To Harry James Potter, I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill._ ” He took out the tiny ball, “Why do you think Dumbledore left you this?”

“Maybe for the reasons you read out?” Harry said, “You know...perseverance and stuff...”

“Do you not think there might be something more? A Snitch is a good place to hide something, don't you think?”

“What?” Harry said.

“Snitches have flesh memories,” Hermione said.

“Correct,” Scrimgeour nodded, “The first person who touches the Snitch is not the maker, but the Seeker. This Snitch will remember your touch, Potter. Dumbledore could have hidden something in this Snitch,”

Lydia glanced at Harry. There was no way he would be able to take the Snitch without the Minister seeing as well. Slowly, he reached out his hand and took the Snitch. As his hand closed around it, nothing happened. Even it’s wings stopped fluttering.

“That was dramatic,” Harry said. Lydia laughed.

“And finally...” _To Miss Lydia Lily Poter, I leave the Sword of Gryffindor, in the hopes that she remembers we are not who we are, but what we do_ ,”

Lydia looked at Scrimgeour, her eyebrows raised. There was no way that the Sword was in that pouch. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“The Sword does not belong to Dumbledore, and was not his to give away,” Scrimgeour said, “So why did you think he gave it to you?”

“I don't know,” Lydia said, ‘Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall,”

“This is not a joke, Potter! The Sword destroyed the Heir of Slytherin. Perhaps Dumbledore believed that the Sword could kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” Scrimgeour said.

“Or maybe it's just a sentimental thing,” Lydia shrugged, “The Sword presents it to a true Gryffindor and it presented itself to me in the Chamber of Secrets even though I’m a Slytherin. That's what he meant, didn't he, when he said that ‘we’re not who we are, but what we do,””.

“Maybe he thinks it could present itself to you when you need to kill He-Who-”

“Have the Ministry considered trying to stick a sword in Voldemort instead of covering up mass breakouts from Azkaban and looking at wills! Voldemort chased me over three counties and killed Mad-Eye! What have you got to say about that?”

“You go too far!” Scrimgeour shouted, jumping up and pointing his wand at Harry.

Ron jumped up too and shouted, “Oi! His wand also out, but Lydia stood up too and pushed Ron down, “No! D’you want to give him a reason to arrest us?”

“Remembered you're not in school, Potter?” Scrimgeour said, sneering, “Dumbledore might have let you get away with everything, but you need to learn to teach your elders with respect!”

“It's time you earned it!”

Just as Mr and Mrs Weasley burst into the sitting room, Scrimgeour took a step back from Harry.

“I regret your attitude,” and he swept from the room.

“What-” Mrs Weasley said.

“Dumbledore's will,” Lydia said.

That evening, when everyone else had gone to bed and Harry, Ron and Hermione were wide awake discussing what they had bought, Lydia crawled into bed but didn't go to sleep. Instead, she lay staring at the dark ceiling in Ginny’s room and thought about Dumbledore had left them. The Deluminator and the book seemed trivial, but Lydia couldn't shake the feeling that the Snitch was something more than a sentimental keepsake. As for the sword...it was ridiculous, but what if Dumbledore really expected her to kill Voldemort with the sword?

“No,” Lydia whispered to herself, “That would be stupid. I’m a witch. I have a wand for a reason,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Hope you're enjoying! 
> 
> -E.


	18. Wedding Day

“What the hell is that, Weasley?” 

“It's me!” Ron said brightly.

“No, it's not,” Lydia said, “That's a ghoul,” 

They were stood in the attic after Ron had quite proudly told Lydia about the plan that had been put in place to stop the Ministry from asking where he had gone. They had come up with the grand idea of disguising the ghoul to look like Ron but with spattergroit. Lydia stood staring at it with her arms folded and wrinkling her nose for the smell was something disgusting.

“Yes it's a ghoul, but the Death Eaters won't need to know that, will they!” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “Listen - when we don't go back to Hogwarts, they’re just going to assume that we’re with you, right? So what's the first thing the Death Eaters are going to do?”

“I don't know-”

“They’ll come for our families! So then we’ll just have to say that I can't come to school because I'm ill with spattergroit!” He said as they arrived back in the bedroom. Fred and George were sat cross legged on the floor with Harry whilst Hermione was knelt at the window, doing her makeup for the wedding.

“And what's Hermione got? Dragon pox?” Lydia asked.

“No, I've modified my parents memory and convinced them to move to Australia,” Hermione said matter-of-factly. Tears sprang to her eyes and she looked away from the mirror, “They have no idea that they have a daughter,”

“Oh, Hermione, I had-” Lydia began but Hermione waved her down.

“No, it's fine,” she said, wiping her eyes, “I always knew it would probably come down to this. I've been preparing myself for it since fourth year, really,” she shrugged, “I don't think they’ll expect me to go back to school, anyway. A lot of muggle borns are going into hiding,” 

“ _ Anyway _ ,” She said, continuing briskly, “I’ve been trying to find out who R.A.B is and I can’t find anything, anywhere!” 

“I’ve looked as well,” Lydia said miserably, “maybe he destroyed the locket,” 

“But we don’t know that! We can’t kill him before all the Horcruxes are gone!” Hermione said. 

“What I don’t understand,” Ron said, “is why we have to destroy the Horcruxes to kill him,”

“Because, the soul is what makes a person,” Hermione said impatiently, “if I killed you right now with a sword, your body would be destroyed but your soul would stay intact,” 

“Which would make me feel a lot better,” Ron muttered.

“It should actually!” Hermione said, “the only way he can be truly destroyed is if the Horcruxes are gone. We just don’t know where they are, which is a slight problem,”

“Just a tiny one,” Harry muttered.

At three o’clock, Lydia stood in the garden of The Burrow next to Hermione. Ron had given them both seating plans in the hopes that it would help them decipher between the great number of Weasley relatives but it wasn't helping. They were all freckled and ginger. Twice, Lydia thought that she had seen Ron but it had ended up being the same cousin twice, who, it turned out, was also called Ron.

“How have we never seen any of these people at Hogwarts?” Lydia hissed at Hermione. 

“We probably have but they all blend together,” she said, “There must have been a time when Gryffindor house was mainly Weasley,” 

Harry, Ron, Fred and George wandered over to them, all looking quite stressed and clutching seating plans. Ron was glaring in the direction of his Great Auntie Muriel, which was unsurprising to Lydia as upon meeting her, Muriel had told her dress was too low cut and her wrists too skinny.

“She just told me that I needed to clear my spots!” he said furiously, “They’re freckles!” 

“Keep telling yourself that, mate,” Fred said, clapping him on the back.

“Look at you! You're the same!” Ron snapped. 

“None of you are allowed to talk about things on your face that draw unwanted attention,” Lydia said, tracing the scar on her face.

“Yeah, but how often does that scar get mistaken for acne,” Ron said darkly.

“And you're better looking than Ron,” George said, “Ouch!” He jerked his head to the side as Fabio bit onto his ear, “Merlin, what is wrong with him?”

“Why don't you put him on the other side? There's no ear there,” Ron said.

“Why don't you stand on that side so I don't have to hear you speak?” 

It took awhile, but everyone was finally seated. Hagrid had caused a small disturbance by sitting on the wrong seat and breaking it. He apologised to anyone who would listen as he sat on the correct chair that wouldn't break under his weight.

“When I get married,” Fred said, tugging at the neck of his robes, “I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like and I'll put a full body-bind curse on mum,”

“You only really get married for the party afterwards, don't you?” George said.

Lydia turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. 

“And love, obviously,” he added hastily.

“Mhm,” she said. “Let's go and sit down,”

A hush fell over the congregation as the golden-jacketed band started playing. Mr and Mrs Weasley walked down the aisle, both beaming. Ginny and Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, followed them wearing robes of light pink. Ginny winked at Harry who quickly looked away.

“Oh, look at her!” Hermione breathed as Fleur came down the aisle with her father. She looked amazing with her silvery blonde hair pulled neatly out of her face and wearing a simple white dress. Charlie was grinning at Bill at the top of the aisle who looked like had never met Fenrir Greyback. 

Lydia looked away as Monsieur Delacour kissed Fleur on the cheek. Not for the first time that day, Lydia wished that James was there with them. She looked down at the ring on her finger and wondered what he would have to say about it all. She imagined it’d be something sarcastic. But he would be happy for her. She knew he would be. 

“Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle...”

In the front row, Mrs Weasley and Madame Delacour were sobbing quietly into handkerchiefs. In the back row, Lydia could hear Hagrid sobbing. George took her hand and turned to her, beaming. She felt her eyes fill with tears and panic set in as she wondered whether or not she would make it to her own wedding day. Still, she was determined to have a good day and pushed those thoughts from her mind and plastered a smile onto her face. 

“...then I declare you bonded for life,” 

The wizard held his wand above his head and a shower of silver stars fell upon the now entwined figures of Bill and Fleur. Fred and George lead a round of applause and the balloons overhead burst and birds flew over their heads, singing. Fabio squealed happily from George’s shoulder. 

After they had eaten their way through four courses and Lydia was sure that if she ate anymore, her dress robes would burst, they were instructed to stand up. They did so, rather hastily, as the tables and chairs were moved to the side, revealing a dance floor. White jacket wearing Waiters made their way around the dance floor, carrying trays of drinks and food.

“Brilliant!” Ron said, picking up four bottles of Butterbeers, “Come on, Hermione, cop hold, let's go and get seats - not over there! That's where Muriel is!”

They found Fred and George sat at a table with Luna Lovegood and a man who could only be her father. They both shared the same scraggly blonde hair and were wearing matching robes of bright yellow. So bright, in fact, that it took Lydia a moment to be able to look at her without squinting. Once you got used to it, Lydia thought that Luna actually looked very nice. 

“Hello, Lydia,” Luna said dreamily, “I like your hair,” 

“Thank-you, Luna. It's a Valerian sprig. Hermione got it me,” she said.

“Lydia Potter, what a pleasure to meet you! I am Xenophilius Lovegood!” Luna's father said, shaking her hand, “I have heard many things about you, from Luna,”

“Oh-uh, lovely to meet you, Mr Lovegood,” she said. 

“Now, I must go and see the  _ Gernumbli gardensi _ ,” Xenophilius said, and then he left as though he had said the most normal thing in the world.

“He must go and see the what?” Lydia muttered to Ron who had gotten distracted by the fact that Harry had somehow been convinced to dance with Luna.

“Herm-own-ninny?” A familiar voice asked.

“Viktor!” Hermione shrieked, jumping up as Viktor Krum came to the table. 

“Oh, this will be fun,” George said, noticing Krum. 

“I-I didn't know you were coming,” Hermione said, looking flustered. 

“Vell, Fleur invited me,” he said, “You look lovely,”

“Hermione!” Ron said in a loud voice, making her jump, “Let's go and dance, shall we?” 

“Oh, right, OK,” Hermione said, taking his hand. 

Krum looked quite put out and then noticed Lydia. “Hello, Lydia,” and then he slouched off, leaving Lydia and George in fits of laughter as Ron glared at Krum over the top of Hermione's head. Harry had managed to escape from Luna and was in deep conversation with Elphias Doge whilst Luna carried on dancing on her own. Fred was on the other side of the dance floor dancing rather outrageously with Mrs Weasley. 

“Can you imagine our wedding?” George asked.

Lydia glanced at him and quickly looked away.

“I don't know,” she said, honestly, “I mean, this could take years. Hunting Voldemort, I mean,” 

“I’ll wait,” he said indifferently.

“What if I don't come back?”

“I'll wait,” he repeated. 

“Listen, if I don't come back, don't feel like you can't find someone else-”

“I don't even want to think about that,” he said quickly, “But listen, we’re at a wedding and we’re sat down like boring people. We really should be dancing,”

Lydia laughed and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor, and for a few hours, she allowed herself to get lost in being seventeen. Hermione and Ron were the happiest that Lydia had seen them in a long time and there seemed to be no trace of Viktor Krum on her mind. It was about time, really, Lydia thought, as she danced with Mr Weasley and she imagined a day when he might be her Father-In-Law.

Under the guise of wanting another drink, Lydia left the dance floor and found an empty table. She sat down at it and took her shoe off, rubbing her foot. Whenever she wore heels, she spent the next day limping around and vowing to never wear them again, only to wear them again in the next few days. George dropped into the seat next to her, wiping sweat from his forehead and looking as though he had just ran a marathon.

“If I see Muriel in ten years, it’ll be too soon,” he said, taking two drinks off a waiter as he walked past. 

“She’s not that bad,” Lydia said. 

“She insulted you within five seconds of seeing you,” 

“Vernon Dursley would have insulted me within three,” Lydia shrugged, “she needs to up her game,”

George looked as though he was going to say something but then shook his head and took a gulp of Butterbeer. Suddenly, there was a bright light in the middle of the dance floor. For a moment, Lydia thought that it was another strange wizard wedding tradition, but then she recognised that I was a Patronus in the shape of a Lynx. 

The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt filled the Marquee.

_ “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming,”  _

The Lynx disappeared and the Marquee suddenly seemed darker than it had been before. Lydia looked at George, her wand drawn. And then it happened. 

The protective enchantments around The Burrow broke and people in dark robes burst in. George grabbed Lydia and forced her down behind the table. Both fully aware that this was it; that this was where everything they had feared was coming true. 

“Don’t say anything,” he said, “don’t make this any harder than it already needs to be,” 

She quickly kissed him and jumped up from behind the table. She spotted Ron and ran over to him, grabbing his arm. Harry and Hermione were nowhere to be seen and all she could think about was how unfair this was. It was a  _ wedding.  _ It was meant to be the happiest day of Bill and Fleur's life and she could see the two of them duelling Death Eaters  on the other side of the room. 

“Ron! Lydia!” 

Lydia whirled around and saw Harry and Hermione running towards them. Together, she and Ron ran over to them and Lydia took Hermione’s outstretched hand. They turned on the spot and the sounds of the wedding left them, only to be replaced by the sound of a busy London road. Hermione shoved the three of them backwards into an alleyway and Lydia meant back against the wall, breathing heavily.

“We can’t just leave them!” Harry said furiously. “Hermione, do you know how many Death Eaters-“

“Exactly, Harry,” Hermione said, “their safer away from us,” 

“She’s right,” Ron said, “the Order are there. They’ll keep them safe,”

“But my bag-“

“I have it all,” she said, opening her beaded bag and starting to pull things out of it. She chucked their bags at them and then gave Harry and Ron a pair of jeans. “We can get away with wearing these,” she said to Lydia. 

“Speak for yourself, my feet are killing,” Lydia muttered. 

“Come on,” Hermione said, “let’s get going,”

“Where are we, out of interest?” Lydia asked, looking around and cringing as men on the other side of the road started wolf whistling. 

“Tottenham Court Road,” Hermione replied, “it's the first place that popped into my head. I think it’s safer to stay in the Muggle world for a while. I don’t think it’s safe to go to Grimmauld Place, because Snape knows where that is. I suppose we could try my parents house but I don’t know if they’ll check there or not. I imagine they will,”

“Let’s go in here,” Harry said, pointing at a grubby all-night café, glaring at the men over the road. 

Inside was just as depressing as the outside. It was completely empty apart from the bored barista stood behind the counter. One of the lights kept on flickering on and off and the table seemed to be coated in grease. When the barista came over to take their order, Lydia quickly ordered them all a cup of coffee.

“Have you got muggle money to pay for this, Hermione?” Ron asked. 

“Yes, I took out my savings before we left,” Hermione said, “I bet all the change is at the bottom,” she added.

“We need a plan,” Harry said in a low voice. 

“I’ve got one,” Lydia said. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s quite simple really: don’t get killed by Voldemort,” 

Ron laughed but Hermione wasn’t impressed. They stayed silent as two new customers walked in. Lydia watched them for a while. The huge blond one seemed to be glancing over his shoulder constantly whilst the other smaller one waved the waitress away when she came to take their order. 

“That’s not funny, Lydia,” she said quietly. 

“Not funny, but a really good plan,” Lydia replied, “although, a lot easier said than- DOWN!”

The two customers had moved at the exact same time, and Lydia automatically mirrored their movements. 

_ “Stupefy!”  _ She yelled. 

Harry shoved her out of the way as the blond one waved his wand,  _ “Protego!”  _

The waitress was stood in the middle of the café, frozen in fear. Hermione leapt over the booths and crashed into her, pulling her out of harm's way just as curse cracked above them.

“ _ Depulso!”  _ Ron yelled as the smaller of the Death Eaters started towards Harry and Lydia,  _ “Expelliarmus!”  _  The blond Death Eater pointed his wand at Ron and black ropes shot out from the end of it, binding him.

_ “Petrificus Totalus!”  _ Hermione screamed, out of sight. The blond Death Eater fell to the floor, unable to move. 

_ “Expulso!”  _ The second Death Ester yelled and the table behind Lydia blew up. The power of the explosion threw her against the wall and her knees gave way underneath her.

_ “Stupefy!”  _ Harry yelled, and a jet of red light hit him full in the face and he fell to the floor, unconscious. “Are you all right?” He asked, standing over her. 

“Been better,” she spat blood, “oh, Merlin, I have been so much better. 

He helped her up and lead her over to where Hermione and, still bound, Ron was. Lydia pointed at Ron, “is anyone going to-“ 

“You do it,” Hermione said hurriedly. 

_ “Diffindo,”  _

Ron roared in pain as Lydia completely missed the ropes and she accidentally caused the spell to cut into his flesh. 

“Sorry!” She said,  _ “Diffindo!  _ There were go, sorry, mate!”

He glared at her as he tore the rest of the ropes off of him. 

“You have really bad aim for a Chaser,” he muttered. 

“Quidditch hoops are a lot bigger!” She protested, helping him up. 

He looked over at the Death Eaters. “What are we going to do with them?” 

“I think wiping their memories is our best bet,” Hermione said anxiously. 

“Does anyone know how to do one of them?” Harry asked. 

“I’ve never done one before, but I know the theory,” Hermione said. 

“You’re the boss,” Ron said.

She took a deep calming breath and stepped towards the Death Eaters,  _ “obliviate,”  _

Once the memories of the Death Eaters and the waitress were wiped, Lydia did her best to put the café back together. She just hoped that once they awoke, they would leave the waitress alone and get going as quickly as possible. 

“What now?” Ron asked, straightening up. 

“We need to find out how they found us,” Hermione said, “they shouldn’t have been able to find us. Neither of you have the Trace on you anymore,” 

“Maybe they find a way to put it on us,” Harry said, “you heard what Kingsley said. The Ministry has fallen,”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Ron interjected, “where are we going to go now?” 

“Grimmauld Place,” Harry said at once. 

Lydia turned to look at him. “Are you thick?” 

“Where else do we have? Mr Weasley said they have all sorts of jinxes and spells against Snape. And even if Snape turns up, I would love nothing more than to run into him!” 

The four of them stood in silence for a while, all trying to think of a better place to hide, but Lydia couldn’t think of anywhere. Openly going into the Wizarding World would be suicide. At least Grimmauld Place was as secure as it could be. 

“Fine.” Lydia said, “Let’s get going,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Hope you’re still enjoying it! 
> 
> -E.


	19. Kreacher's Tale

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was about as dark and depressing as Lydia remembered, only somehow worse this time and she didn't think it had anything to do with the horrific dust figure of Albus Dumbledore that rose from the carpet when they first entered. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked on into one of the sitting rooms, but Lydia made her way upstairs. The heads of decapitated House Elves glared down at her from the walls and she was sure that she could hear something rustling around in the shadows. It didn't scare here anymore.

Lydia arrived at the bedroom that she, Hermione and Ginny had shred and she pushed it open. It creaked slightly as she peered in. It seemed to have been kept in the exact same condition as they had left it before their fifth year at Hogwarts. The t-shirt that Lydia had forgotten to pack was still screwed up on her bed. She turned back around and carried on through the house, arriving at the room where she and Harry had met James for the first time. Slowly, she pushed the door open and for a brief moment, she saw James awkwardly stood on the other side of the room with Sirius and Remus.

A noise downstairs brought her back to present day and as quietly as she could, she followed the sound of the noise and found Hermione and Ron stood outside the bathroom, banging on the door.

“Harry? Harry?” Hermione was shouting, “open the door! Open the door!”

The door opened revealing quite a dishevelled looking Harry. His scar seemed to b showing up bolder than usual.

“What did you see?” Lydia asked, “Was it him?”

“I didn't see anything,” he said, rubbing his head, “I just felt anger. He's really angry about something,”

“But that could be at The Burrow!” Ron yelled, “Did he say where-”

Hermione shrieked and jumped backwards. Lydia drew her wand, but it was only a patronus in the middle of the room. It didn't have a shape, but then it solidified into a weasel and the voice of Mr Weasley rang around the room.

“Family safe. Do not reply. We are being watched,” and then it dissolved into nothing.

Ron stared at the spot where the patronus had been for a while, as thought it would come back and speak more words of reassurance. Hermione dropped down onto the couch, her head into her hands. Lydia and Harry looked at each other, it didn't say anything. Lydia hated to be that person, but they had very quickly hit a dead end. Back at The Burrow, they had had no time for planning but Lydia had hoped that they would be able to start properly planning once the wedding was over. Now, however, Ron seemed too shaken to think about anything but his family and Lydia had no idea where to start when it came to hunting Horcruxes. Dumbledore had really left them with the bare minimum.

“Can we sleep in the living room, tonight?” Hermione asked in a quiet voice, “I don't want to be on my own,”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Yeah, we’ve got sleeping bags, right?”

\---

The next morning, Lydia woke early to Harry shouting her name from somewhere in the house. Wishing for extra hours of sleep, Lydia wrapped herself in her sleeping bag and walked upstairs. She found him in Sirius’ room, somewhere she had never been before. It looked as though someone had been looking through it and had done so without taking any care; the curtains were hanging off the window, the bed sheets ripped up and the contents of the wardrobe were strewn across the room.

“Did you do this?” Lydia asked.

“No,” he said. He was sat on the bed, “I found it like this but, look at this,” he handed her a piece of parchment, “It's off mum,”

Lydia smoothed out the piece of crumpled parchment:

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Thank-you, thank-you for Harry and Lydia’s birthday present! It was their favourite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, they looked so please with themselves, I'm enclosing a picture so you ca see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but Harry nearly killed the cat and Lydia smashed a horrible vase that Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was so funny, says they’re both going to be great Quidditch players one day, but we’ve had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off them once they get going._

_We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and dotes on the kids. We were so sorry to you couldn't cme, but the Order’s got to come first and they aren't old enough to know it's their birthday, anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell - also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit with Remus, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I though he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard._

_Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore. I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much I believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore_

Lydia wiped her eyes and stared down at the letter, incredible proof that Lily Potter really had lived. For years, Lydia had felt as though her mother had never really existed. As if she was just a shared hallucination between those who had known her, but she really had lived. Sixteen years ago, Lily Potter had sat down somewhere in Godric's Hollow and written these words about Harry and Lydia. She read it over and over again, Sirius had bought them their first broomstick and James had always thought they would both be good Quidditch Players. She wondered if James had ever thought about their first birthday when he had watched them play Quidditch the previous year.

Lydia felt a rush of anger as she read the sentence Wormy was here again. According to Lily, he had seemed down. Was that because he knew that Lily and James only had a matter of months? Did he know that he was going to happily stand by and let Voldemort kill an entire family? A family who trusted him enough to pick him as secret keeper?

“I found this,” Harry said, handing her a photograph, “I couldn't find the rest of the letter,”

She took the photograph off him and looked down at it. Two black-haired babies zoomed in and out of frame on broomsticks, their toes skimming the ground as a pair of legs that must have belonged to James chased after them. Lydia wiped her eyes again as she looked down at her and brother; no scar marked their faces or their hands, and neither of them had any idea of what was coming for them. They were still innocent, lost in a world of broomsticks and smothered with the love of two parents who would be cruelly taken from them in just a few months time.

“We had a cat,” Lydia said quietly, “We could have asked dad what it was called,”

Harry nodded. “We could have asked dad so much more,”

“Lydia? Harry? Where are you?”

“Here!” Harry called, “What's happened?”

There was a clatter of footsteps and Hermione burst inside.

“Don't do that! We woke up and couldn't find you,” She said breathlessly. She turned and looked over her shoulder, “Ron! They’re in here!”

“Good! Tell them from me that they’re gits!” Ron shouted up the stairs.

“Hermione, look at this,” Lydia said, showing her the picture and the letter.

She smiled slightly as she looked at the picture of Harry and Lydia on their broomsticks. She glanced around the room, “Did you make all this mess?”

“No, it was like this when I found it,” Harry said.

“I thought so. Almost every room I looked in like this. What were they after, do you think?”

“If it was Snape, information on the Order,” Lydia said.

“But he was in the Order, remember?” Hermione said, “He already knew everything,”

“Well then,” Harry said, “what about information on Dumbledore? The second page of this letter, for instance. You know this Bathilda my mum mentions, you know who she tis?”

“Who?” Hermione asked.

“Bathilda Bagshot, author of-”

“A History of Magic,” said Hermione, looking interested, “So your parents to knew her?”

“And she's still alive. She knew Dumbledore's family, too.” Harry said, “She”d's be interesting to talk to-”

“I understand why you want to speak to her, Harry, but I think they’ll expect us to go to Godric's’ Hollow,” Lydia said, cutting across him, “And it's not going to help us find Horcruxes, is it?”

“You're right,” Harry said, in a resigned voice.

“Let's go and find something to eat,” Hermione said slowly, “and then work out where we’re going from here,”

As Lydia walked to the stairs, her eyes fell on a door that she had previously not seen before. Stuck to it, was a sign that would not have looked out of place on the bedroom door of Percy Weasley:

“Do not enter, without the express permission of Regulus Arcturus Black,”

“Regulus Arcturus Black...” Lydia said quietly, “Regulus Arcturus Black...R..A..B..” She gasped and almost toppled down the stairs, “I’ve found him! Harry! Hermione! R.A.B! R.A.B!”

Harry ran back up the stairs as Lydia pointed silently at the door. He looked shocked for a moment but then he turned to her, his face full of glee. He ran forward and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

“Alohomora,” Hermione said, shoving them both out of the way. “Ron! Ron!” She yelled over the bannister, “come up here! Quickly!”

“If it's one of those massive spiders again, I want to wait until I've eaten breakfast first because-” he froze at the top of the stairs, his wand ready and looked at the sign that Harry was gesturing wildly too, “Regulus Arcturus Bla - Merlin! It's R.A.B!”

Harry lead the way into the room. It was slightly smaller than Sirius’, but Lydia could tell why Regulus had always been the favourite over his older brother. Where Sirius had plastered his walls with Gryffindor colours, muggle pictures and pictures of his friends, Regulus had covered his room with the emerald colour of Slytherin house. Newspaper clippings hung on the wall and Lydia moved closer to them. Every single one was about Lord Voldemort.

“Seems like he was a fan before he joined the Death Eaters,” Lydia said to Ron, pointing at the clippings.

“Look at this. He played Quidditch,” Harry said, showing them a picture.

Lydia peered at it. The team wore the exact same robes that she had worn the previous year. Regulus was instantly recognisable in the front row. He looked like his brother, though perhaps not as handsome and slightly smaller.

“He played Seeker,” Harry said.

Lydia moved over to the wardrobe and opened it, her wand held up. Like Sirius’ room, it had been ransacked and the dusty robes were hanging off their hangers. She suddenly went cold at the thought of Snape knowing they were looking for Horcruxes and had told Voldemort what they were doing. What if Voldemort was now keeping them close to him so that they would never be able to destroy them? Dumbledore trusted Snape more than anyone and it would not have been a shock to Lydia if se found out that Dumbledore had told Snape everything.

“There's an easier way to do this,” Hermione said. She raised her wand, “ _Accio Locket_ ,"

Nothing happened.

“Is that it, then? It's not here?” Ron asked, disappointed.

“Oh, it could be here, but under counter-enchantments,” sad Hermione.

“That's what Voldemort put on the stone basin in the cave,” Harry said.

“Maybe it's just not here,” Lyda said, “Someone has obviously been here before us. Maybe they found it,”

“Let's just keep looking,”

They combed every inch of the room for over an hour but found nothing and were forced to give up. Whilst Lydia, Harry and Ron were feeling quite discouraged, Hermione seemed to have become more determined.

“Just because it's not in that room doesn't mean it's not in the rest of the house,” She said in a rallying tone, “It could be anywhere in here! Even if he didn't manage to destroy it, he would have wanted to hide it from Voldemort, wouldn't he?”

Lydia nodded, “Yeah, remember all those things we found when we were clearing out the house last time-”

“Merlin's beard!” Hermione exclaimed, making them jump, “The locket! It was here! In the cabinet in the drawing room!”

Lydia gasped as she remembered it. She had been stood in the drawing room with the Weasley's, her father and Sirius when they had found the locket. No one could open it as they passed it around the group and then Sirius had sighed and tossed it in a bag of rubbish, proclaiming it to be a ‘piece of shit,’.

“Kreacher used to nick stuff all the time, remember?” Harry said, “It might still be in his cupboard...”

At once, they thundered down the stairs. Passing the screaming portrait of Mrs Black, (“Mudblood! Scum! Filth!”) they burst into the basement kitchen. Harry launched himself at Kreacher's cupboard and yanked the door open, pulling everything out of it. It was empty, apart from a ragged blanket and a dead mouse that rolled across the floor and came to rest at Lydia's feet, who grimaced and kicked it away from her. Hermione closed her eyes and Ron groaned, throwing himself down in one of the chairs.

“It's not over yet,” Lydia said, “ _Kreacher_!”

There was a loud crack and the house elf that Lydia and Harry had reluctantly inherited from Sirius appeared out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny, half human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from his batlike ears.

“Mistress,” croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog’s voice, and he bowed low; muttering to his knees, “back in my Mistress’s old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood –“

“I forbid you to call anyone ‘blood traitor’ or ‘Mudblood,’” Lydia said quickly.

“Still a disgrace to the house of Slytherin...” he croaked, not quite looking at her.

“I’ve got a question for you,” said Harry. Lydia’s heart beating rather fast as she looked down at the elf.

“and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” said Kreacher, bowing low again.

Lydia saw his lips moving soundlessly, undoubtedly framing the insults he was now forbidden to utter.

“Two years ago,” said Harry, “there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?”

There was a moment’s silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, “Yes.”

“Where is it now?” asked Lydia jubilantly as Harry, Ron and Hermione looked gleeful.

Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his next word.

“Gone.”

“Gone?” echoed Lydia, elation floating out of her, “What do you mean, it’s gone?”

The elf shivered. He swayed.

“Kreacher,” said Harry fiercely, “I order you –“

“Mundungus Fletcher,” croaked the elf, his eyes still tight shut. “Mundungus Fletcher stole it all; Miss Bella’s and Miss Cissy’s pictures, my Mistress’s gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and – and – “

Kreacher was gulping for air: His hollow chest was rising and falling rapidly, then his eyes flew open and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream.

“—and the locket, Master Regulus’ locket. Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!”

Harry seemed to react instinctively: As Kreacher lunged for the poker standing in the grate, he launched himself upon the elf, flattening him. Hermione’s scream mingled with Kreacher’s but Harry bellowed louder than both of them: “Kreacher, I order you to stay still!”

  
Lydia watched the elf freeze and Harry released him. Kreacher lay flat on the cold stone floor, tears gushing from his sagging eyes.

“Harry, let him up!” Hermione whispered.

“So he can beat himself up with the poker?” snorted Harry, kneeling beside the elf. “I don’t think so. Right. Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?”

“Kreacher saw him!” gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. “Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher’s cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher’s treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran … “

“You called the locket ‘Master Regulus’s,’” said Lydia. “Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!”

The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. When he spoke, his voice was muffled but quite distinct in the silent, echoing kitchen.

“Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress’s heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper order; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns … and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve …

And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said … he said …”

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

“… he said that the Dark Lord required an elf.”

“Voldemort needed an elf?” Lydia repeated, looking around at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who looked just as puzzled as she did.

“Oh yes,” moaned Kreacher. “And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do … and then to c-come home.”

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

“So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake … “

“… There was a boat …”

Lydia remembered what Harry had told her of the cave...of course there had been a boat. This, then, was how Voldemort had tested the defenses surrounding the Horcrux, by borrowing a disposable creature, a house-elf…

“There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it …”

The elf quaked from head to foot.

“Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible thing … Kreacher’s insides burned … Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed … He made Kreacher drink all the potion … He dropped a locket into the empty basin … He filled it with more potion.”

“And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island … “

Lydia could see it happening. He watched Voldemort’s white, snakelike face vanishing into darkness, those red eyes fixed pitilessly on the thrashing elf whose death would occur within minutes, whenever he succumbed to the desperate thirst that the burning poison caused its victim …

“Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island’s edge and he drank from the black lake … and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface … “

“How did you get away?” Harry asked in a whisper.

Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked Harry with his great, bloodshot eyes.

“Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,” he said.

“I know – but how did you escape the Inferi?”

Kreacher did not seem to understand.

“Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back,” he repeated.

“I know, but – “

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it, Harry?” said Ron. “He Disapparated!”

“But … you couldn’t Apparate in and out of that cave,” said Harry, “otherwise Dumbledore – “

“Elf magic isn’t like wizard’s magic, is it?” said Ron, “I mean, they can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can’t.”

There was a silence as Lydia digested this. How could Voldemort have made such a mistake? But even as he thought this, Hermione spoke, and her voice was icy.

“Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice … It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn’t.”

“The house-elf’s highest law is his Master’s bidding,” intoned Kreacher. “Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home … “

“Well, then, you did what you were told, didn’t you?” said Hermione kindly. “You didn’t disobey orders at all!”

Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever.

“So what happened when you got back?” Harry asked. “What did Regulus say when you told him what happened?”

“Master Regulus was very worried, very worried,” croaked Kreacher. “Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then … it was a little while later … Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell … and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord … “

“And he made you drink the poison?” said Harry, disgusted.

But Kreacher shook his head and wept. Hermione’s hands leapt to her mouth: She seemed to have understood something.

“M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had,” said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. “And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets …”

Kreacher’s sobs came in great rasps now; Lydia had to concentrate hard to understand him.

“And he order – Kreacher to leave – without him. And he told Kreacher – to go home – and never to tell my Mistress – what he had done – but to destroy – the first locket. And he drank – all the potion – and Kreacher swapped the lockets – and watched … as Master Regulus … was dragged beneath the water … and … “

“Oh, Kreacher!” wailed Hermione, who was crying. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. At once he was on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.

“The Mudblood touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?”

“I told you not to call her ‘Mudblood’!” snarled Lydia, but the elf was already punishing himself. He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.

“Stop him – stop him!” Hermione cried. “Oh, don’t you see now how sick it is, the way they’ve got to obey?”

“Kreacher – stop, stop!” shouted Harry.

The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glistening around his snot, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself, his eyes swollen and bloodshot and swimming in tears. Lydia had never seen anything so pitiful.

“So you brought the locket home,” she said relentlessly, for he was determined to know the full story. “And you tried to destroy it?”

“Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it,” moaned the elf. “Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work … So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open … Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave …”

Kreacher began to sob so hard that there were no more coherent words. Tears flowed down Hermione’s cheeks as she watched Kreacher, but she did not dare touch him again. Even Ron, who was no fan of Kreacher’s, looked troubled. Harry sat back on his heels and shook his head. Lydia stood away from them, her arms folded as her mind worked in overdrive.

“I don’t understand you, Kreacher,” She said finally. “Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them … “

“Lydia, Kreacher doesn’t think like that,” said Hermione, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. “He’s a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn’t that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He’s loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs. Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you’re going to say,” she went on as Lydia began to protest, “that Regulus changed his mind … but he doesn’t seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he?” And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus’ family were all safest if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all.”

“Sirius – “

“Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Lydia, and it’s no good looking like that, you know it’s true. Kreacher had been alone for such a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I’m sure ‘Miss Cissy’ and ‘Miss Bella’ were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favor and told them everything they wanted to know. I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did … and so did Sirius.”

Lydia had no retort. As she watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, she remembered what Dumbledore had said to her and Harry, mere hours after Sirius’s death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a humans.

“Kreacher,” said Harry after a while, “when you feel up to it, er … please sit up.”

It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccupped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

“Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something,” said Harry. “Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket – where Master Regulus’ locket it. It’s really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to – er – ensure that he didn’t die in vain.”

Kreacher dropped his fists and looked up at Harry.  
Lydia glanced at Harry and decided against telling him that this was probably a terrible idea.

“Find Mundungus Fletcher?” he croaked.

And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place,” said Harry. “Do you think you could do that for us?”

As Kreacher nodded and got to his feet. He took out the fake Horcrux

“Kreacher, I’d, er, like you to have this,” he said, pressing the locket into the elf’s hand. “This belonged to Regulus and I’m sure he’d want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you-”

“Overkill, mate,” said Ron as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground.

It took them nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who was so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he was too weak at the knees to stand properly. When finally he was able to totter a few steps they all accompanied him to his cupboard, watched him tuck up the locket safely in his dirty blankets, and assured him that they would make its protection their first priority while he was away.

He then made two low bows to Lydia, Harry and Ron, and even gave a funny little spasm in Hermione’s direction that might have been an attempt at a respectful salute, before Disapparating with the usual loud crack.

“Do you think we’re stupid, putting all our trust in Kreacher?” Lydia asked.

“Probably,” Ron shrugged, “but we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone ever wonders how stupid I am at times, I thought I’d posted this chapter like two days ago but then I realise that it was still in my drafts...
> 
> So, sorry for this taking longer than usual! 
> 
> Next chapter will be up either on or before Friday! 
> 
> -E.


	20. Magic is Might

“I don’ ‘ave it! That woman does!” Mundungus Fletcher yelled, backing away from Harry's wand. 

“What woman?” Harry demanded. 

Lydia was watching the scene unfold bemused. Kreacher and Dobby had both come back with Mundungus Fletcher, who did not at all seem happy to see them. Though, Lydia thought that might have been down to the fact that Ron had rugby tackled him and Hermione had accidentally on purpose kicked him in the ribs. Kreacher was not helping the situation by hitting him over the head with frying pan, but it did warm her heart to see the elf on their side for once. 

“I don’ know!” Mundungus said and then he paused. “Why, is it valuable?” 

“He still has it!” Hermione cried. 

At once, Lydia marched forward with her wand drawn but Ron stopped her, shaking his head. 

“He doesn't have it. He’s sold it and thinks he should have got it for more,” Ron said, eyeing Mundungus with mistrust.

“Sold it for more?” Mundungus laughed, “That would have been fuckin’ easy, wouldn't it? Nah, I had to give it away to some woman! I was sellin’ in Diagon Alley and I didn’ have a license, did I? And this Ministry woman came up to me and started threatening me with arrest an’ all that,” he said that as though it was as normal as someone stopping him to ask for directions, “anyway, she starts gettin’ all high and mighty as these Ministry folk do an’ then she saw that locket, didn’ she? An’ she said that if I give it her for free, she wouldn’ report me. So I gave it her, didn’ I?” 

Lydia frowned at him and finally lowered her wand, backing away from him. Kreacher was still stood next to him, his thin arms shaking under the pressure of him holding the frying pan above his head. Part of Lydia wanted to tell him to put his arms down, but she knew there was no point, he probably wouldn't listen to her. 

Hermione was still stood next to Mundungus, a confused look on her face. 

“So, who was it?” She asked, “Do you know her name?” 

Mundungus shook his head and looked thoughtful for a moment. 

“I didn’ get her name but she was a pudgy sort of woman, y’know? Quite short,” he paused for a moment, “kinda looked like a toad, now that I come to think of it,” 

Harry looked up at Lydia, his eyes wide. The scars on the back of her hand seemed to be tingling. There was only one woman who she knew who looked like that. Hermione looked at Lydia, her hand over her mouth. Ron was shaking his head as though trying to shake the memory of Umbridge out of his mind.

“Was she wearing a bow in her hair, by any chance?” Lydia asked, her voice steady.

“Yeah. Why?” Mundungus said, he looked down at the Daily Prophet that Ron had stolen that morning. A picture of Umbridge was smiling up at them. “There she is. That's the woman,” 

“Right,” Harry said, straightening up. “Thanks Mundungus. That's all we wanted to know,” 

The next morning, Lydia Apparated into Diagon Alley from the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. She snuck through the Leaky Cauldron and walked into muggle London. Fully aware that she was meant to be wearing it, she bundled the Invisibility Cloak up and stuck it into her bag, pulling her hood over her face and sticking her hands in her pocket. After being holed up in Grimmauld Place for so long, it was nice for Lydia to get away. Whenever they needed something from the outside world, Lydia was always the first to volunteer herself to go. Hermione was never very happy to let her go but, as Lydia pointed out, out of the four of them, Lydia was always the one who did the most sneaking around back in Hogwarts. 

“McGonagall is scarier than the Dark Lord and you can't deny that,” Lydia would say.

As she passed a group of teenagers gossiping about something, tears suddenly sprung to her eyes. What Lydia would give to be gossiping about something stupid, as opposed to discussing the best way to kill a Dark Wizard. A couple walked by hand in hand and all Lydia could think about was George. She knew that Mr Weasley had said that the family was safe, but Lydia knew the way Voldemort worked. He would go for their loved ones. It was why he had gone for Sirius, and was probably why he would go for someone else next. Lydia fiddled with her not quite engagement ring and wondered if that had all been a mistake. What if the Death Eaters found out? What would they do to George then? 

Then, of course, there was the issue of Ron and Hermione. Along with Lydia and Harry, they were wanted for questioning. In her own ignorance, Lydia had never seen Hermione as anything less than any of them because of her blood status - but there was a whole world outside of Hogwarts, and she had forgotten. Outside of Hogwarts, there were genuine pureblood supremacists who wanted muggleborns gone. Lydia often thought that perhaps Hermione would have done better if Lydia had never marched up to her that one day outside of the potions classroom. 

And Mrs Weasley often spoke about how Harry had saved the lives of many of the Weasleys, but if they had never gotten so close, maybe that wouldn't have happened. She often thought back to Ron's limp body in the Hospital Wing after he had been poisoned, Ginny almost dead body in the Chamber of Secrets and, more recently, the sight of George’s blood soaked neck in The Burrow, and the bandage now tightly wrapped around his head. 

Someone grabbed her upper arm and pulled her down an alley. Lydia lashed out and her fist made contact with someone's jaw. There was something familiar about the yell that followed. She backed away and looked up into the face of Remus Lupin, who was looking ever so slightly pissed off. Before he could say anything, her wand was out and pointing directly at his chest.

“In the final match of the inter- house Quidditch tournament at Hogwarts when Remus Lupin taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, what teams played?” She asked hurriedly.

“It was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw,” he said, “Harry caught the Snitch,” he smiled at her, “Speaking as your ex Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, that was very good,”

Lydia cracked a smile and put her wand back into her jeans. “I learned from the best. What's going on? Why are you here?” 

“I came looking for you,” he said, “Where are you staying?” 

“Grimmauld Place. Come on, the others will want to see you,”

They slowly made their way back to Grimmauld Place, looking over their shoulder as they want. The familiar dust figure of Albus Dumbledore rose from the carpet and, once her tongue had unrolled, she calmly said, “I didn't kill you,” and he faded away into nothingness.

“Lydia?” Came Hermione's voice, “Is that you?” 

“Yeah. Look who's here with me!”

Hermione popped her head round the door and he face split into a wide grin at the sight of Remus. 

“Come in! Come in!” She said excitedly. 

Lydia felt as though Remus probably wouldn't recognise Grimmauld Place. After being given the fake locket, Kreacher had improved greatly. He had stopped muttering under his breath as he walked around the house and had finally stopped insulting Hermione. He even bowed to her, the previous day, after she had thanked him for cooking a quite delicious meal. He had even started cleaning for the first time in over twenty years and Grimmauld Place was actually quite a nice house to live in.

Harry and Ron were stood in the kitchen, pouring over sheafs and sheafs of parchment. They had started planning to break into the Ministry and steal the locket from Umbridge. Lydia could have predicted that it would be complicated, but she didn't think that it would be this difficult. There had been a time when Lydia and Harry would have been able to walk into the Ministry like it was nothing, but these days, there was no way that they could do so now without being killed or arrested. Or both. She didn't think that Death Eaters would mind which one. 

“What are you doing?” Remus asked. 

“Nothing!” Harry said, shoving all the parchment off the table, “Nothing!” 

Next to her, Hermione whimpered slightly as everything got mixed up. Ron was looking at Harry like had had gone mad. Lydia was quite worried that Harry had gone mad because he was currently whistling very loudly. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Harry asked. 

“I came to find out what you were doing,” Remus said, sitting down, “Everyone back home is being watched. And there's Death Eaters watching outside,” 

“Oh, yeah, I saw them before,” Ron said. 

“And you didn't think to tell us?” Hermione asked. 

“I...forgot,”

“I’d have been here three days ago but I had to shake off the Death Eater tailing me,” said Remus, “so, have you heard anything?” 

“Nothing,” Lydia said miserably, “only what the Prophet are reporting which isn’t a lot,” 

“Scrimgeour is dead,” 

Hermione gasped, “how?”

“Death Eaters,” Remus said grimly, “Apparently, they wanted information on you two,” he indicated Lydia and Harry, “but he didn’t give anything away,” 

Lydia bit the inside of her lip. She had never gotten on with Scrimgeour, neither of them had, but the fact that he had given his life for them made her respect him in a way she never had done before. Harry glanced at her but didn’t say anything. 

“And I know you four are going after Voldemort, and I thought you would want help,” Remus continued. 

“Off who?” Lydia asked, “You don't mean you want to come with us?”

“Yes,” Remus said, “You need all the help you can get,” 

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “Don't you want to spend time with Tonks?” 

“She's going to be staying at her parents for a while,” Remus said stiffly. 

“Remus, is everything OK with you and Tonks?” Hermione asked quietly. 

“Yes. Everything is fine,” he said testily. 

Hermione looked away from him. Lydia felt as though everything was the opposite of fine but didn’t say anything. An uncomfortable, embarrassed silence followed only to be broken by Remus. 

“Tonks is going to have a baby,” 

Hermione gasped, “That’s amazing!” 

“Congratulations!” Harry said.

“That’s brilliant!” Ron said. 

Lydia didn’t say anything. Remus was looking as though he had just announced the worst possible thing in the world. She looked away from him and stared into the fire that was roaring behind him.

“You’re having a baby,” Lydia said slowly, “and yet you want to leave them?” 

“I don’t want to leave-“

“But you just asked if we wanted help,” Harry said, “thought you’d have an adventure instead?”

“How-how dare you! This is not - not for personal gain!” Remus said, “your father would wand me to stay with you-“

“Dad would have wanted you to stay with your pregnant wife!” Harry snapped, “he wouldn’t have left me and Lydia!” 

“Harry, you don’t understand-“

“No, I don’t think you do,” Harry said, “I can’t believe this. The man who taught me how to fight Dementors is a coward!” 

“Harry!” Lydia exclaimed, shocked. 

Remus jumped up, his wand drawn and Harry did the same, but he wasn’t nearly as quick. There was a sound like a gunshot and Harry flew back against the wall. Lydia ran over to him and helped him up as he massaged the back of his head and glared at Remus. 

“Remus! Remus!” Hermione wailed as he tore from the room. 

“What was that for?” Ron asked furiously. 

“I shouldn’t have called him a coward,” Harry said. 

“I’ll sort these out,” Hermione muttered, stooping down and picking the parchment up. 

Harry turned to Lydia, and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. 

“Parents...parents should leave their kids unless they have to,” He said. 

She nodded. 

“I know, H. I know,” 

—-

They didn’t talk about Remus again, and instead implemented the plan for the Ministry. They had been watching the Entrance for months, watching who went in and out and at what time, waiting for the perfect disguises. It took a while, but they found them eventually.

Harry would take on the disguise of Albert Runcorn, a man who ran the Muggle-born registration. Lydia had taken an instant dislike to him the first time she saw him and he’d told a muggle-born wizard that he would be taking him straight to the dementors. Ron would become Reginald Cattermole of the Department of Magical Maintenance, whenever Lydia saw him, he always seemed very stressed and like he was two minutes close to a nervous breakdown. Hermione would take on the appearance of Mafalda Hopkirk who worked in the Improper Use of Magic Office. Harry had gotten on the wrong side of her twice and wasn’t very keen to use her, but, as Hermione pointed out, they didn’t have the liberty of choosing their favourite people.

“Who am I, again?” Lydia asked on the morning they were going to break into the Ministry.

“Geraldine Walker,” Hermione said promptly, “Auror. Thirty five years old and was qualified at the age of twenty five,” 

“Oh, right, so you want me to attack an Auror with ten years of experience?” Lydia said. 

“Obviously,” Hermione said as though it was no big deal. She anxiously looked around the kitchen, “we have everything, don’t we?” 

“Yes,” Ron said, “Stop panicking,” 

Dead on seven o’clock, they left Grimmauld Place and a very cheerful Kreacher who promised them a lovely meal when they got back. Lydia tried not to think about the fact that they might not come. They Apparated to the staff entrance of the Ministry of Magic and waited for their employees to come. According to their planning, there would be around five minutes between each arrival, with Reginald Cattermole being the first to arrive. 

“Any minute now...” Harry muttered, looking at his watch from where they were crouched behind a bin. 

“He’s there!” Hermione said quickly, “Ron, now!” 

Ron peaked his head around the bin and quickly stunned him. Harry leapt out from behind the bin and dragged Cattermole into an empty warehouse behind them, plucking some hairs from his balding head and dropping it into a Polyjuice potion. Three minutes later, Mafalda Hopkirk Apparated and Ron stunned her, dragging her next to Cattermole. Lydia didn't like the idea of leaving two bodies behind, but, as she kept on reminding herself, they weren't dead and that made them marginally better than Death Eaters. 

“Just two more now...” Hermione breathed. 

“Wish they'd hurry up,” Lydia said, “this bin stinks,” 

“Most bins do, Lyds,” Ron sighed, “Wait - here's the Auror,”

Finally, they were ready and Geraldine Walker, Reginald Cattermole, Mafalda Hopkirk and Albert Runcorn walked out from behind a very stinky bin. Lydia pulled down on the heavy black robes that they had found in a bedroom in Grimmauld Place. It looked like the kind of thing Geraldine wore to work on a daily basis, but she also didn't look this awkward. Something that Lydia was very thankful for was the fact that Geraldine Walker had  _ amazing  _ hair. She had the kind of hair that Lydia would kill for and she would happily murder someone for it. 

“Let's get going then,” Harry said. 

Trying to look as though they knew where they going, they followed the line of Ministry workers into what appeared to be public toilets. Lydia and Hermione exchanged worried looks with Harry and Ron as they divided into the male and female toilets.

Inside, Lydia only grew more confused. Witches walked into the cubicles, and then didn't come back. When it was her turn, Lydia walked into one of the tiny cubicles and closed the door behind her. She looked around, expecting to see something more than the small toilet in the cubicle. After seven years in the Wizarding World, Lydia had learned that the weirdest thing to do, was probably the right thing to do. So, she climbed into the toilet and pulled the chain. 

At once, she began to spin on the spot and felt herself fall before tumbling out of a fireplace that lined the walls of the Auditorium of the Ministry for Magic. Before she got hit by the next person coming up, she quickly brushed the soot off her robes and hurried forward, trying to look as though she knew where she was going. As per the plan, Lydia walked over to the fountain in the middle of the Auditorium. Only, it wasn't the fountain that she recognised. 

Instead, it was a beautiful witch and handsome wizard sat upon golden thrones. Underneath, the thrones, were grotesque figures with ugly, twisted faces. Large golden letters sat on the base of the fountain. Lydia looked down at the words, going cold as she read them.

**MAGIC IS MIGHT**

“Have you seen what they’re sitting on?” Hermione asked her, slowly walking up to her.

“What?” Lydia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Muggles,” 

“We need to get going,” Harry said, in Runcorns deep voice. 

“Cattermole!” 

The four of them spun around and Lydia very nearly drew her wand for a Death Eater she recognised as Yaxley walked over to them. She quickly stopped herself when she remembered that she didn't look like herself.

“Y-yes?” 

“It's still raining in my office,” he growled, “and you told me that you'd fix it,”

“O-oh, right. Y-yes, I'll sort it out now,” Ron stuttered. 

“And please remember, Cattermole, that I'm questioning your wife today,” Yaxley said, “I think it's best that you keep yourself in my good books,” 

“Y-yes, obviously,” Ron said, “I’ll go there now,”

Yaxley nodded at Harry, gave Lydia a disapproving look and then stormed off. Ron turned to look at Hermione, his eyes widened in fear. Lydia knew that Ron wouldn't know where to start on stopping someone's office from raining and neither would she. Mafalda Hopkirk had the same look in her eye that Hermione did when needing to figure out a particularly difficult problem in class. 

“Put  _ impervius  _ on all his belongings to protect them, and then try  _ finite incantatem _ . That should work,” Hermione said quickly.

“If that doesn't work just blow up the office,” Lydia offered, “you can't fix an office if it never existed in the first place,” 

Ron glared at her and hurried off. 

“WALKER!” 

“Lydia, that's you,” Harry whispered. 

She turned around and came face to face with someone who she was quite sure was a Death Eater. He had his wand pointed at her chest and for a moment, she was quite sure that they had been found out, but then he looked at Harry and he lowered his wand. 

“Ah,” he said, “you found her,”

“Uh...yes,” Harry said, frowning slightly, “I did find her,”

The Death Eater smiled, “Good,” he turned back to Lydia, “bet you didn't think that we’d find out you were a Mudblood, eh?” 

“Mudblood?” Hermione squeaked, “G-Geraldine?” 

The Death Eater smiled, “Yes. The family tree she submitted wasn't  _ quite  _ right, was it? Her father was as much of a blood traitor as that Arthur Weasley,” He shuddered at the very thought, “I’ll take her down to the Dementors then. They might even have a little kiss for her,” 

Lydia felt herself go cold and she glanced at Harry who had managed to maintain the stony look of Albert Runcorn. Hermione on the other hand was staring at him open mouthed.

“I thought Dolores wanted you down in the courtroom, Mafalda?” The Death Eater said. 

Hermione jumped as though she had been stung. “O-oh yes, of course,” she cast a panicked look at Harry and Lydia and then hurried away. Lydia's heart was beating like a hammer against her rib cage and she was sure that she would collapse. 

“I’ll take her down then - give me your wand, Walker,” 

“I’ve already taken it,” Harry said quickly, and he held up his own wand, “I’ll come with you,” 

“It's not like you to take such an interest in Mudbloods once they’re arrested,” The Death Eater said, a note of confusion in his voice. 

“Yes, well...I have a personal interest in this one,” Harry replied smoothly.

“Oh yes, of course,” The Death Eater, “I forgot you worked that case together. Come on, then,” He gripped Lydia’s upper arm and dragged her along with him. A muscle twitched in Harry’s jaw, and she was worried that he was going to punch him, but he just quickly followed along, not making eye contact. 

As they walked towards the lifts, a hush seemed to fall over the Auditorium as the gathered Ministry workers watched who they thought was Geraldine Walker being taken to receive a Dementors Kiss. Lydia noticed a woman watching her with tears cascading down her cheeks and she realised the magnitude of what Voldemort and Death Eaters were doing. He wasn't just effecting her and Harry, but countless other people who didn't ask for any of this. 

She was hauled into the lift and the Death Eater very unceremoniously shoved her against the wall. Her neck snapped back and she hit the back of her head hard. Lights danced before her eyes and she barely registered Harry shouting, “watch it!” at  the Death Eater and the slight argument between the two of them. 

With a slight  _ ding,  _ the lift came to a halt and the Death Eater pushed her out of the lift. She walked in between the Death Eater and Harry, fighting the urge to curse everyone she came across. Then, she felt someone kick her in the ankle and she fell to the floor with a yelp. 

“Don't worry, I’ll get her!” Harry called to the Death Eater. He stooped down and grabbed her arm, whispering, “Don't cast a Patronus unless you absolutely have to. I’ll come and find you. I promise,”

“Don't be long,” she said, “I don't want to- oh no,” 

She felt herself go limp in his arms as three Dementors swooped over them and she went cold. There was a distant echo of cold laughter in mind and she fought against it, trying to think of anything else. The Death Eater looked at her and smirked. 

“Not nice, are they? Maybe you should have thought about that before you put a lot of my family in Azkaban, shouldn't you?” 

Lydia wanted to say something sarcastic, but she didn't have it in her.

“Just sit her there with the rest of the Mudbloods,” he said, jerking his head at two rows of benches, “a lot of them today, aren't there?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, leading her over to the front bench and sitting her down on it, “say, you don't know what courtroom Dolores is in, do you? I need to speak to her,” 

“Courtroom 2, I think. Is everything OK?” 

“Yeah, just need to speak to her about some Muggleborn reforms,” Harry lied. 

The Death Eater wrinkled his nose. “I don't care about all that sort of stuff. I'm much happier rounding them up up,” he nodded at Harry, “See you later, Runcorn,” and he walked off. 

Harry looked at Lydia. “See you soon,” he whispered and hurried off down the corridor. 

As she sat with the Muggleborns, Lydia kept her hand around her wand in her cloak. Some were sat on their own whilst others were sat with loved ones. She tried to stay as calm as she could, knowing that if she didn't, she’d never be able to cast a Patronus when she needed to. In the space of twenty minutes, Lydia had somehow managed to develop the annoying habit of looking down at her watch every thirty seconds. The Polyjuice Potion would only last an hour. It was strange, Lydia thought, that in a Potions class, an hour seemed to last a lifetime, but in a life or death situation, it flew by. Though, she reflected as she watched another Muggleborn be taken in for questioning, Potions with Professor Snape often felt like a life or death situation. 

One of the Muggleborns next to her tutted. 

“Remember when we thought that Harry and Lydia Potter were going to put this right?” she said, “It's ridiculous really, putting all your faith into a pair of teenagers,”

“Yeah,” the man next to her said, “I though they usually swoop in and save the day last minute. I suppose they’re on the run themselves,” 

“Nice for some,”

“They are doing something though,” Lydia said before she could stop herself, “Or...they’re trying,”

“How do you know?”

“I have a hunch,” 

“Aurors and their bloody hunches,” the man muttered, “if you'd have had a hunch that You-Know-Who was back maybe we wouldn't be in this mess,” 

Lydia couldn't help but agree with him. She often wondered what would have happened if Cornelius Fudge and his Ministry had believed that Voldemort was back straight away. Would they have been in the same situation? Would Dumbledore had instructed Lydia and Harry to look for the Horcruxes earlier? They might have been finished earlier, if they had. 

Then her skin began to bubble and she knew what was happening. 

“Oh no,” she whispered, quickly looking down. 

“Geraldine...why is your hair black?” The man asked her slowly. She looked up at him and he gasped, almost toppling off his chair, “Y-you're here!” 

“No, I'm not. I'm a figment of your imagination,”

“What?”

“Damn, thought that was going to work,” she sighed, “Well, time to cause a scene,”

Lydia jumped onto the bench and looked around, casting a Patronus as a Dementor made towards her. There was a loud gasp that turned to the sound of laughter, as though no one could believe she was there.The door at the end of the corridor banged open and Harry ran out, followed by Hermione and a very confused woman who was looking around as though she couldn't believe her eyes. 

“POTTER!” It was Yaxley, running down the corridor towards her. 

“Remember when you said we usually swoop in and save the day last minute?” 

The woman nodded. 

“Don't hold your breath -  _ EXPULSO!”  _

The curse caught a Death Eater in the chest and she flew through the air, crashing into two others. Lydia leapt over the bench and over to Harry and Hermione. This was definitely not a part of the plan, but nothing they did ever went to plan. Hermione shot to jinxes over the top of Harry’s head as he turned to address the Muggleborns. 

“Who here has a wand?” He asked. 

About half of them raised their hands.

“OK. Those who don't have a wand, attach yourself to someone who does and follow us. Don't hold back on any jinxes because they won't,” he said quickly, “And- oh, Merlin. Dementors!” 

Lydia looked down at her left hand and her eyes fell on her ring. The sound of George laughing echoed through her mind. 

_ “Expecto Patronum!”  _

Another doe burst from the end of her wand and charged the Dementors that was coming towards them, followed by a stag. Hermione, on the other hand, was struggling to produce her patronus and Lydia could tell that she was getting more and more frustrated with herself.

“It's the only spell she's ever struggled with,” Harry said, “It's a bit of a shame, really - come on, Hermione!” 

Finally, an Otter burst from her wand and swam through the air to meet the Stag and the Doe. Lydia grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her after Harry as he ran to the lifts, herding as many of the Muggleborns into it as he could. Lydia had dissolved into a complete state of panic and was hopping from one foot to the other as the lift ascended through the floors of the Ministry. 

They ran out into the Auditorium to a group of Death Eaters. Hermione blasted them out of the way and Lydia looked around, calling for Ron. What if he d been caught? What if the Death Eaters had him? But then Harry yelled, “there he is!” and a soaking wet Ron ran over to them, gasping for breath.

“THERE THEY ARE! LOCK DOWN THE FIRES!” Yaxley yelled, running over to them. 

“Ah, shit, forgot about him,” Lydia said. She whirled round to the Muggleborns, “GET GOING THEN!” 

_ “Petrificus Totalus!” _

Yaxley blocked the spell and it richotted off the fountain. He set a stunning spell her way but she managed to deflect it and it hit another Death Eater who was advancing on her from the other side. Behind her, Lydia could hear Harry, Ron and Hermione shouting for her to hurry up. Grates were blocking the entrances to the fireplaces, and they were five fireplaces away from being trapped. 

_ “DEPULSO!”  _

The spell finally found home and Lydia took off running, grabbing Hermione's outstretched hand. Just as Lydia was pulled into the fireplace, she felt someone else grab her wrist. Lydia briefly saw the front door of Grimmauld Place and began to calm down, but then she head Hermione shout a spell and she felt her feet leave the ground again. 

“Oh, Great Merlin...” Hermione breathed, “We did it...”

Lydia looked around. They were stood in a house that she had never seen before. No pictures lined the walls and it looked as thought hadn't been lived in for a while, though it gave the impression of once being quite homely.

“Where are we- Ron!”

Hermione looked around and gasped. Ron was slumped against Harry and had gone pale. Blood poured out of his arm at an alarming rate. Hermione lead him to the couch and chucked her ended bag at Lydia. 

“Find Essence of Dittany!” She said hurriedly, “Quickly! He’s been splinched!” 

“ _ Accio Dittany!” _

A small bottle of something that Lydia had only ever seen in the Hospital Wing few out of the bag and into her hand. She handed it to Hermione who began to pour liberal amounts of it onto Ron's arm. Immediately, the cut healed up and formed a sling. Ron stopped shivering and fell asleep. Some colour returned to his face. 

Where are we?” Harry asked. 

“My parents house,” Hermione said, “I didn't know where else to go. I don't think we can go back to Grimmauld Place. We gave away the location,”

Lydia jumped up and raised her wand, muttering all of the protective enchantments that she had researched. 

_ “Protego Totalum, Salvio Hexia, Repello Muggletum, Muffilato, Cave Inimicium, Protego horribillis,”  _

_ “Protego horribilis?”  _ Harry asked.

“I heard Flitwick talking about it,” Lydia shrugged, “I thought it'd be safe to use. So, did you get it?” 

Harry held up a thick, golden locket, smiling slightly, “Got it,” 

Lydia grinned and took it off him. The moment she picked it up, she knew it was the real Horcrux. It felt alive. She was sure she could feel a heartbeat. 

“So...do we know how to destroy it?” Lydia asked. 

“No,” Harry said, “but we’ll figure something out,”

“That’s what you always say,” 

“That’s what we always do,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. 
> 
> Also, I’m probably going to start diverging from canon just because I’ll probably enjoy writing more if I do, and hopefully you lot will enjoy reading it more. 
> 
> Comments appreciated! 
> 
> -E.


	21. The Hunt begins

“EXPULSO!”

The locket shot into the air and fell back to the ground with a dull thump. Hermione tutted and looked through the spell book she was holding, biting down on her lip. They were still at Hermione’s parents house. The protective enchantments actually seemed to be working and no one had bothered them. Not even Death Eaters, and Lydia was convinced that there were probably some patrolling the area. She and Ron were sat on the decking in the back garden, watching Harry and Hermione try to destroy the locket. Lydia didn't think that they would get very far, but it made them feel like they were doing something.

Ron had been in a bad mood since they had come back from the Ministry. His arm still hadn't healed properly and, with it being his wand arm, he hadn't been able to do much. The Horcrux hadn't been helping, either. After going through so much to get the locket, the four of them were terrified of losing it and wore it in shifts. It seemed to affect everyone differently; Ron sunk into an even worse mood when he was wearing it, Harry and Hermione became very weak and tired and Lydia didn't feel too different, which worried it her. There was no denying that she was unhappier when she was wearing it, and she found it harder to do magic, but it didn't affect her in the same way as it did the others.

“Do you think it's weird?” Lydia had asked Harry one evening, “that it doesn't bother me so much?”

“I don't know, it's probably because you're already so much of a twat already,” He shrugged.

There was another explosion and Lydia jumped. Both Harry and Hermione had tried to blow the Horcrux up at the same time to no success. Lydia related her and on her chin as she watched them. Part of her wanted to tell them to give up, but she knew that they had to try, despite how arduous the process was becoming. Ron kept on prodding an old beat up radio with his wand, and muttering under his breath. It took everything in Lydia to not stun him.

“Have you tried confringo?” Lydia asked, “or Incendio?”

“Incendio!” Hermione cried.

Fire curled around the locket but then sputtered and died. Hermione sighed and returned to her book. Harry was still trying to destroy the Horcrux. Lydia tried to shout for him to stop, but gave up when she realised that he would sooner destroy the Horcrux than actually listen to her. She wondered why Dumbledore had never actually told them how to destroy the Horcruxes. He had left them with little to no instructions and the thing that they had to do wasn't exactly easy. It was the exact opposite of easy, actually, Lydia thought as Harry waved his wand over and over again.

They lasted at Hermione’s house exactly a week. One morning, Harry had shook them all awake, shouting about Death Eaters on the street. Lydia leapt from where she was sleeping on the couch and peeked through the curtains. Two Death Eaters were stood on the other side of the street, looking quite bored.

“Do you think we need to leave?” Lydia asked.

“Not yet,” Hermione said, running a hand through her hair, “We can stay a while. The enchantments will keep them out for now. Besides, we can't go anywhere yet,” she glanced at Ron who sat at the kitchen table, looking over a chess board.

“How are we going to get out to get food?” Harry asked.

“We’ll just have to use the Invisibility Cloak,” Lydia said, “And try and get as much as we can. That way we hopefully won't have to go out again,”

“Are we ever going to go out again?” Ron asked moodily, “or are we going to spend the rest of our lives in this damn house?”

Harry opened his house to retaliate but Hermione put her hand on his arm and shook her head, “Don't start arguing. He’s struggling,”

“Yeah, and the rest of us are doing just fine,” Harry snapped, storming from the room and slamming the back door behind him.

Ron looked quite satisfied with himself and turned back to his chess board. Hermione shook her head and tightly shut the curtains. Lydia sighed and followed Harry out into the back garden. She found him sat on the decking, staring directly ahead of him. She sat down next to him in silence. If he realised that she was there, he didn't look over and acknowledge her.

Lydia didn't try and say anything to him, and instead just rested her head on his shoulder. They didn't have to say anything to each other, because they both knew exactly what the other was thinking. Maybe it was a twin thing, maybe they were both just equally depressed about how depressing their lives really were. Lydia knew that he was grappling with the feelings he felt for both Ginny and Draco, and though she would never say it to him, Lydia was quite sure that whatever Harry felt for Draco was more genuine for whatever he felt for Ginny.

She knew how unhappy he had been in sixth year, and she still kicked herself for not being there for him, but in the weeks when he and Draco were together, she could see how happy he was. There was a light in his eyes that she hadn’t seen for years and, on the rare occasion that she was in the Great Hall, his roaring laughter was the loudest noise of all. And that had all disappeared when he and Draco had broken up.

In fifth year, or even fourth year, he and Ginny might have been the perfect couple, but now, they were the direct antithesis of whatever the perfect couple was. They were too different, too distant and were at completely different points in their lives. Ginny had her entire life ahead of her. Harry could only have a matter of months, and Lydia felt like Draco would understand that better. Not that it mattered anymore, anyway.

Really, Lydia would love nothing more than to tell Harry all of this, but they really weren't in the correct situation to do so. Lydia wouldn't even let herself think about George, because when she did, she felt her heart become heavy again and her mind would wander to places that she didn't want it to. What would he do if she died? Who he find someone else? That's what she would want him to do, she would hate the thought of him being alone for the rest of his life. But, deep down, her mind roared with jealousy at the thought of some other girl being with George...of him buying flowers for her and knowing exactly what to say to make her laugh when she was sad.

Even worse, she thought about what would happen if he died. The fact that she was only seventeen didn't escape her, but she couldn't imagine being with someone who wasn't George. She couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and thinking about going on a date with someone else, walking down the street a hand in hand with someone else or having someone else sliding a not quite engagement ring onto her finger.

Then, of course, there was the paralysing thought of leaving Harry behind. There was no denying that her brother was clever and more than capable of looking after himself, but she often thought about that one time in second year when he and Ron had gone into the Forbidden Forest for the first time without her and Hermione and they had nearly gotten killed by Acromantula. And then, of course, there was the time in third year when he managed to transfigure his right arm into a cactus trying to jinx Crabbe. The memory still brought tears of laughter to Ron and Hermione’s eyes.

Lydia hated the thought of not being there for Ron or Hermione. Ron had been Harry and Lydia’s first friend in the Wizarding World and had been one of the quickest Gryffindors to accept her despite the Slytherin thing. And as much as she loved Harry and Ron, and as much as she knew Hermione loved Harry and Ron, her and Hermione often found solace in each other when Harry and Ron got too much for them to handle. The two of them had very quickly learned that time alone with each other was the best remedy when Harry and Ron were being so...male.

“What do you think dad would tell us to do if he were here now?” Harry asked, finally breaking the silence.

Lydia sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“He’d probably tell us to stick together,” she said.

“Because that's all we have, isn't it? Each other,”

Lydia nodded, “Yeah. That's all we have,” she sighed, “have you realised that it's probably just going to come down to me and you? That there's going to be times when even Ron and Hermione can't help?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It's just going to me and you against him. As always,”

Lydia bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying. Just behind them, she could hear Ron still prodding the radio and muttering under her breath. She had no idea what she was doing, but Hermione kept on telling them to lay off him because he was injured. She didn't know about Harry’s morals, but Lydia was more than happy to jinx anyone, regardless of how injured they were.

“What is he doing?” Harry muttered, looking behind them at the house.

“My head in,” Lydia said, “or maybe his own head in. I don't know,” She looked up at her brother, “We’ll manage it, you know. We’ll kill him, somehow,”

“I know,” he said quietly, “I know,”

Back inside, Hermione was still pouring over all her books.

“What do you think he could have chosen from Gryffindor?” Hermione asked.

“I don't know,” Harry shrugged.

“Hey, you don't think that it could be the sword, could you? Why else would Dumbledore leave it me?” Lydia asked eagerly.

Hermione bit her lip.

“Maybe...but I don't know why he didn't just destroy it whilst he had it...” said Hermione, “He already destroyed the ring, didn't he - oh my god,”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Basilisk fangs!” Hermione exclaimed, “That's what Harry destroyed the diary with!”

“Sometimes I feel like we all forget that I killed a massive snake when we talk about the Chamber of Secrets,” muttered Lydia, “Nearly died I did, but sure, Harry stabbed a diary,”

Hermione waved her down. Lydia rolled her eyes and dropped down onto the couch as Hermione paced up and down the living room, wringing her hands together. Harry watched her go, not saying anything. Lydia felt as though all they ever did was hit brick wall after brick wall and Ron was doing nothing to help them. If it weren't the fact that he actually needed it, Lydia would have happily snapped his wand in half it meant that he stopped poking that damn radio.

“Where are we going to get basilisk fangs from?” Harry asked, “They aren't exactly easy to come by...I doubt they'd even be on the black market. There's only one Basilisk in Britain and its in Hogwarts,”

“Friendly reminder that I killed-”

“Maybe we’ll have to go back to Hogwarts,” Hermione said, interrupting Lydia. “Though, at this point, it could be suicide,”

“At this point, anything we do is suicide,” Lydia pointed out, “Can I remind you all that there's a massive group of Death Eaters outside?”

“There's no way we would be able to get into Hogwarts, anyway,” Harry said, “Now that Snape is Headmaster, Vold-”

“Don't say the name!” Ron said.

“What?” Harry said exasperatedly.

“It feels wrong to say it. It's like...disrespectful to say it-”

“Disrespectful? Ron, he killed my-”

“Never mind, Harry, just don't say it,” Hermione said quickly.

“Fine,” Harry said, “Now that Snape is Headmaster, You-Know-Who will have full control of the school. I imagine he will have closed up all the secret entrances. He would have managed to find them all out,”

“What about the Vanishing Cabinets?” Lydia suggested, “It goes straight to the Room of Requirement, doesn't it?”

“Yeah, but Malfoy knows about that, doesn't he?” Hermione said, “We’d get found out. It's not like we’re best friends with him, is it?”

They spoke about every possible way to get into Hogwarts, but each suggesting seemed more ridiculous than the last. Dumbledore had put a million and one protective enchantments on Hogwarts the previous year, and Lydia was certain that Voldemort would have used the Dark Arts to his advantage and put more on that they could never take down. They entertained the idea of trying to contact Neville, Ginny or Luna for all of three seconds, until they remembered that the post would definitely be being checked. They still had the DA Galleons, but they would only display the time and date of a meeting.

“We definitely should have taken a leaf out of dads book and become an Animagus,” Harry muttered as midnight neared, “I bet we’d have been able to sneak in then,”

“No, we wouldn't,” Hermione said, “You're Animagus form is usually the same as your patronus. You two would have been recognised immediately. Me and Ron on the other hand...”

“Ah, yes, a Jack Russell and an Otter, something you see everyday at Hogwarts,” Lydia said.

“To be fair, it's not the weirdest thing that someone could see at Hogwarts,” Hermione reasoned, “Not that that matters, anyway. We can't go back to Hogwarts. It's too silly. We must think about something else-”

There were two knocks on the front door and everyone became very still. Harry dropped to the floor and crawled over to the window, looking out onto the drive. He swore and dropped back down the floor, and turned back around to them, his eyes wide.

“I don't want to freak anyone out, but there is a Death Eater knocking on the door,” Harry whispered.

“Is he delivering Pizza?” Lydia asked.

“Obviously not,” Harry said, “why in the name of Merlin would he be delivering pizza?”

“I don't-”

“BOMBARDA!”

Hermione screamed. Lydia dived across the room towards Ron and dragged him up, shoving him towards the back door. Harry waved his wand and all their belongings flew back into Hermione’s bag. The door to the living room burst open and two Death Eaters barged in. Lydia flicked her wand and the couche flew towards them, catching them both in the stomach.

Not waiting to see if they were coming after them, they ran out into the back garden and jumped over the back wall. Once they were out of the range of their protective enchantments, Hermione grabbed them all and they Apparated away. Lydia got a brief glimpse of another Death Eater and then they were stood in the middle of a field, alone again.

“Is your arm OK, Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, it's fine,” he mumbled, though Lydia thought he looked a bit pale.

“Lydia, put the tent up, would you?” Hermione said, throwing the beaded bag at her, “I’ll put these enchantments up,”

“The tent?” Harry asked, frowning.

“It's in the bag,”

“It's in the-”

“Accio tent,”

The tent that the boys had stayed in at the Quidditch World Cup zoomed out of the bag and landed at Harry’s feet, who was staring at it open mouthed. Lydia flicked her wand at it and it sprang up, settling itself into the ground. Ron lead the way in as Hermione moved around them, muttering the protective enchantments.

They only lasted here two days, moving again to the outskirts of a small market town where they lasted just one after Harry encountered some Demento. So they moved again.

And again.

And again.

It wasn't ideal. Not being able to stay in one place meant that they couldn't plan anything. Ron was becoming moodier and moodier, and Lydia didn't miss the whispered conversations he had with Hermione about how they knew nothing, how Dumbledore had told Harry nothing. And Lydia agreed with them, but she never said anything. The only way they were going to do this, if that she and Harry stayed on the same team. They could do anything if they were on the same team, their past proved that.

And it wasn't as though Harry wasn't trying to find the Horcruxes. They visited a village that Voldemort had reportedly lived in for a while, but found nothing. They went to the village where Tom Riddle had killed his family, but found nothing and even went as far as going to the orphanage where had been brought up, but found that it had been knocked down and replaced with offices. Hermione suggested that they dig around in the foundations but Harry shook his head.

“If it were here, I would be able to feel it,”

The one place that kept on cropping up in their long discussions was Hogwarts. It made sense to Lydia that Voldemort would leave a Horcrux there. That had, after all, been his first home and the first place he had felt genuine happiness, if he could feel such an emotion. But, as Hermione kept on pointing out, there was no way they would ever be able to go back. Lydia didn't like to think about the fact that one of the Horcruxes could be there because it would be practically impossible for them to get it. She kept on wondering if Voldemort somehow knew that they were looking for Horcruxes and had purposely hidden one of them somewhere he knew they would never be able to get to.

“The other Horcruxes don't matter if we can't find a way to kill this one,” Ron kept on unhelpfully pointing out.

“There must be something I'm missing,” Hermione kept on saying over and over again.

“I know what I'm missing,” Lydia muttered, “my will to live,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this is so short, but life caught up with me reeeeally quick, in the way that it does. But this is more of a filler chapter, anyway, I promise it'll get a lot more exciting soon! 
> 
> Thank-you all for the kudos, it means a lot! 
> 
> I'll try and update as quickly as possible. 
> 
> -E.


	22. Breaking Point

Days stretched into weeks and weeks into months. Before they knew it, November had caught up with them and they had achieved nothing. Any positive thoughts that Lydia had been having melted away, only to be replaced by the reality of the situation; they had no idea what they were doing. The bitter November wind did not bring them any inspiration and the heavy rain was nothing but a distraction as it beat down loudly on the canvas of the tent. 

Ron was still dedicating his time to prodding the radio, Hermione spent most days curled up in a chair pouring over her many books and Harry often sat in the mouth of the tent, staring into the mirror that Sirius had given him one Christmas whilst the snitch Dumbledore left him hovered next to him. The words,  _ “I open at the close,”  _ were etched onto it, and Lydia still couldn't work out what it meant. Maybe it was the close of the Horcrux hunt. Though, Lydia could not see that ending for years.

“Lyds?” Harry called. 

“Mhmm?” she said from where she was lay on her bunk bed. 

“C’mere,” 

Groaning, she pulled herself out of bed and walked over to him. He was still staring into the mirror, his brows furrowed slightly. Lydia tugged at the Horcrux hanging around her neck and tried to tell herself that the reason she wanted to hit the mirror out of his hand was because of the Horcrux, and not because she was a terrible person. Though, the jury was still out on the latter.

“Look at this mirror,” he said, shoving it in her hands. 

Lydia looked into it and grimaced. She hadn't realised how terrible she looked. There were deep bags under her bloodshot eyes and her hair looked even worse than usual. She had lost so much weight that she looked almost gaunt. It wasn't a good look and she quickly handed it back to Harry. 

“Why are you giving me this?” She asked. 

“Because I think I can see Dumbledore's eye in it,” he said.

The words hung in the air for a moment as Lydia tried to think of the nicest way to respond to him. The last thing she wanted to do was shout at him and put him in an even worse mood. 

“Harry. Dumbledore is dead,” 

“No, I know,” he said quickly, “but he had dads Invisibility Cloak, didn’t he? What if he got his mirror as well?” 

“That’s a great theory, Harry, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead,” Lydia said bluntly. 

“Remember what he said in first year?” Harry asked, “after we got the Philosopher's Stone?” 

“Uh-“

“‘To the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure,’” he recited, “What-what if he was really organised? What if he knew what was going to happen and he’s looking out for us, somehow?”

“H, I think that’s what he just said to make us feel better about the fact that Nicolas Flamel was going to die,” Lydia said, “I don’t think he meant-“

“How do you know?” He asked, earnestly, “How do you know he’s not still out there?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia admitted, “I don’t know that he’s not out there, but I don’t think we should focus on that. There’s bigger things to worry about,” 

“Just keep it on you, please, and keep on checking,” 

After this, they didn’t speak about Dumbledore again, though it did catch Lydia’s attention. When she couldn’t sleep, which was most nights, she sat cross legged on her bunk bed, the mirror propped up facing her. She would read a book, or pour over the Marauders Map, her eyes flickering up to the mirror every now and then. Annoyingly, she never saw anything. Although Lydia had had a very different relationship with Dumbledore than Harry had, she did like the thought of Dumbledore still being out there, somehow, looking out for them and maybe even helping them if they never progressed from where they currently were. 

“I’ve got it!” Ron yelled. 

“Got what?” Lydia asked, climbing down from her bunk and walking over to him. 

“This - listen!” He said, pointing at the radio as Harry and Hermione wandered over.

_ “Welcome back to  _ Potterwatch _! Sorry about our brief absence, but that is because of housecalls from those lovely Death Eaters! Honestly, what we do without them?”  _ Came a familiar voice from the radio _ , “As always, I am your host River-“  _

“Is that Lee Jordan?” Harry asked, laughing. 

_ “And I am joined today by my lovely co-host, Rodent-“  _

_ “I told you, I’m being called Rapier! Not Rodent! He can be Rodent!”  _ An angry voice said. 

“That’s Fred!” Ron said, “no, wait. It’s George-“ 

_ “Fine, I’ll be Rodent,”  _ came the exasperated voice of George Weasley.

“That’s George,” Lydia said.

_ “So, Rapier, what stories can you tell me about the Dark Lord? Or, as I like to call him, Chief Death Eater,”  _ Lee asked,  _ “he has been as elusive as our dear Potter siblings, hasn't he?”  _

_ “Quite right,”  _ Fred agreed,  _ “although, I do believe that the Potters  are being elusive to stay alive and You-Know-Who is being elusive because he likes to maintain an air of mystery, which is a good strategy if you’re trying to be as terrifying as possible. Mind you, if all these sightings of You-Know-Who are real, then there’s about nineteen of him running about,”  _

_ “Bad news if you’re a Potter,”  _ George said, “ _ and bad news for the rest of us, actually,”  _

They all laughed. It was amazing what a few jokes could do to lift their mood. The sound of his brothers voices seemed to do wonders for Ron, who was no longer looking like he wanted to murder them all. 

_ “Most news is bad news if you’re a Potter. None of them have ever gotten a break,”  _ Fred sighed, “ _ What would be even worse news for them, if such a thing existed, would be if You-Know-Who could indeed kill someone with a single look, which is a strange rumour that is floating around,”  _

_ “Do people genuinely believe that?”  _ Lee asked. 

_ “Unfortunately,”  _ Fred sighed,  _ “folks, let me get one thing straight - the only thing that will kill you with one look is a Basilisk,”  _

_ “Yes, there’s a very simple test to carry out,”  _ George said,  _ “if the thing you’re looking at has no legs, then it is a Basilisk. In which case, you turn around and run in the opposite direction. But, if the thing you’re looking at has legs, it You-Know-Who. I don’t really have any advice for you because he’d probably just kill you,”  _

_ “Depending on who you are, of course,”  _ Lee added,  _ “though if you’re listening to this, I do believe that you’ll be very high on his kill list,”  _

_ “Who do you think does the admin for the Death Eaters? You know, who writes the kill list?”  _ George asked,  _ “because someone has to do it and I doubt it’s the big guy himself...surely he’s got better things to be doing,”  _

Lydia felt like the laughter that filled the tent would have defeated Voldemort, Horcruxes destroyed or not. Even Hermione was laughing and wiping tears from her eyes as Fred and George began to have a fierce debate about who would be doing Voldemort’s admin between Yaxley and Lucius Malfoy. George was making a good case for Yaxley but, as Fred pointed out, no one liked the Malfoys.

_ “The Malfoys don’t even like the Malfoys!”  _ He kept on repeating,  _ “You-Know-Who wouldn’t want them doing his  _ exciting  _ work, would he? He’d just want them to do the shitty stuff. Kind of like how Dumbledore gave Lockhart the Defence Against the Dark Arts position knowing he’d be gone in a year,”  _

_ “That’s all well and good, but does Lucius Malfoy even know how to hold a quill? I’m quite sure the only thing he’s good at is walking around and being ignorant,”  _ George said,  _ “and being a general dickhead,”  _

_ “Shut up, Rodent,” _

_ “Don’t use my code name against me. That’s low,”  _

Lee cleared his throat very loudly and Lydia was suddenly transported back to Hogwarts. She had lost count of the times that she had seen Lee stood in between Fred and George when they were bickering about what spell would inconvenience the Slytherins the most, rolling his eyes and coughing loudly. He seemed to be one of the only people in the world who was able to shut the two of them up with one simple noise. Lydia still hadn’t quite found the best way to shut George up when he was going on with himself at four in the morning when all she wanted to do was sleep.

_ “Anyway,”  _ Lee said loudly,  _ “that’s all the time we have today! Thank-you for listening! Next week's password is  _ Padfoot.  _ Keep on twiddling those dials and keep the faith in the Potters!”  _

The radio cut off. The four of them looked at each other and then burst into laughter again. Ron shook his head and put the radio back onto the table, grinning broadly. Harry was holding his side from laughing so much, his glasses hanging off his face.

“They could get into so much trouble!” Hermione said anxiously. 

“Only if they’re not careful,” Ron said, “they’re not stupid. You have to have a certain password for each broadcast and they probably move around a lot. They’ll be fine,”

The effect that  _ Potterwatch  _ had on the four of them was amazing. The knowledge that they weren’t the only ones fighting was enough to not drive Lydia to find Voldemort and let him kill her. Even Ron was in a much better mood and was actually bearable when he was wearing the Horcrux. Lydia still tried not to think about how the Horcrux didn’t affect her like it did the others. She felt like there was some darker reasoning behind it and she really didn’t want to find out what it was. 

“Lydia, do you know what this is?” Hermione asked her, handing her the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard that Dumbledore had left her. 

“Yes, Hermione, this is a book,” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “No,  _ this _ ,” she pointed at something that had been scribbled onto the title page. It was a triangle with a circle and line inside it. Lydia frowned and peered closer at it. It almost looked like an eye and was vaguely familiar. 

“It looks like an eye,” she said, “have we seen it before?” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Hermione said, “I thought that it was a rune at first but I don’t recognise it. I don’t think that we learned it in school and I checked all our Ancient Runes books but it’s not in there,” 

“Xenophilius Lovegood!” 

“Bless you,” Ron said.

“No, Luna’s dad. He was wearing it at the wedding!” Lydia said, “Remember?” 

“Oh yeah...” Harry said, “and then Viktor Krum got really angry about it. He said it was the sign of Grindelwald,” 

“Grindelwald?” Lydia asked, “the Dark Wizard that Dumbledore killed? What would Xenophilius be doing wearing the sign of a Dark Wizard?” 

“To be fair, he probably thought that it was the cross section of the head of a Crumple Horned-Snorkack,” Ron shrugged.

“You don’t think it’s important, do you?” Harry asked Hermione, “why else would he leave you the book?” 

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted, “It could have something to do with Horcruxes, but...I don’t see what...” she gazed at the symbol again, “we should have asked him what it was at the wedding...”

“We need to just focus on the Horcruxes,” Lydia said firmly, “if that symbol does having something to do with them, then we’ll work it out, won’t we? And if not, then it’s a problem for another day,” 

“Yeah, right,” Harry said, standing up and stretching.

Hermione looked back down at her book and curled up in a chair, flicking through it. Her stomach rumbling, Lydia sat at the kitchen table, her mind working in overdrive. She couldn’t imagine that Dumbledore would leave them random objects, that wasn’t the sort of thing that he would do. Her eyes flickered over to Ron, he was sat facing her, poking his wand at the radio again. The Deluminator that Dumbledore had left him was lay on the table next to him. Lydia couldn’t imagine what other use apart from turning the lights on and off. Still, she couldn’t help but imagine that they had to be used for something other than lights and a bit of light reading. 

The snitch hovered above Harry’s head and she watched it. It made no sense to her. Nothing made any sense to her, apart from the sword, which could be a Horcrux. Lydia rubbed her temples. If it was a Horcrux, why didn’t Dumbledore destroy it when he had the chance? Unless it wasn’t a Horcrux, but Lydia couldn’t understand why else would he-

_ “Welcome back to  _ Potterwatch,” 

The voice of Lee Jordan interrupted her thoughts. She turned to look at the radio as Harry and Hermione came in to join them. 

_ “Um..this...this is a bit of a strange one because I’ve just received news that Rodent was taken by the Death Eaters,”  _ He said,  _ “Rapier contacted me this morning to tell me. I, uh, I don’t really know what to say, actually. I am joined today by Romulus, to give us some words of encouragement. Or...something,” _

Lydia put her head in her hands, fighting back tears. The not-quite engagement ring seemed heavy on her finger.  _ “Let him come,”  _ George had said to her after James’ funeral. Lydia had warned him that this might happen. They should have just put their feelings aside and broken up, that way this would never have happened. 

_ “Thank-you, River,”  _

“Remus!” Hermione exclaimed. 

_ “Any news?”  _ Lee asked,  _ “Anything about Harry or Lydia Potter?”  _

_ “Nothing _ ,” Remus said,  _ “but, I do not think that they are dead as some people seem to believe. You-Know-Who would not keep their deaths quiet, no, I believe that they are both still out there and still fighting. And, if I could speak to them, I would tell them both to keep a cool head and not do something stupid, no matter what they might hear,”  _

_ “Thank-you for those encouraging words, Romulus,”  _ Lee said,  _ “And, any word on Rodent?”  _ There was a more of pleasing in Lee’s voice. 

A silence followed this. 

_ “I...no, nothing at this point. But we are looking and we won’t stop until we find something,”  _ Remus promised.

_ “Thank-you, Romulus, and this is where our broadcast comes to an end. The next password will be  _ Fabio _ ,” _

Lydia still didn’t look up. She could hear Ron breathing heavily. Harry put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. Finally, she looked up. Ron was holding onto the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. 

“Ron?” Hermione asked in a small voice, “R-Ron?” 

He stood up very suddenly, kicking the chair away from him. Harry stood up at once, holding his hand out. 

“Ron, don’t-“

“Don’t tell me how to react to this! This is my brother, we’re talking about!” He yelled, “George is probably dead and-“

“Don’t say that!” Hermione said, “he won’t be-“

“It’s her fault!” shouted Ron, pointing at Lydia, “if it weren’t for you, the Death Eaters wouldn’t give a damn about him!”

“Are you for real?” Lydia snapped, “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted the Death Eaters to go after him? He knew what he was getting into! We spoke about it all the time! I told him that they might-“ 

“You should have done more! Merlin, the shit that’s happened to him because of you! He’s lost an ear and now the Death Eaters have probably killed him!” 

“Don’t blame her!” Harry yelled, shoving Ron in the shoulder, “it’s not her fault! It’s no ones fault! We just need to stick together and look for Horcruxes-“

“Oh, don't make me laugh!” Ron snapped, “we’re no closer to finding another one than we are to destroying that fucking Locket!” 

“We’re trying our best!” Harry yelled, “what more do you want? Did you think we’d be staying in five star hotels? Do you think you’d be back with your mum by Christmas?” 

“I just thought we’d have made some more progress by now! I thought you had a plan!” Ron said, his voice deadly calm. 

Lydia looked away from them, tears streaming down her face.

_ “ _ I told you everything that Dumbledore told me,” Harry said.

“Do you know why I listen to that radio all the time? To make sure I don’t hear someone’s name! And now you’re expecting me to act like it never happened?”

“No one is expecting you to do that!” Lydia yelled, “Do you think I’m going to be able to-“

“You don’t know how this feels! Your family is dead!” Ron yelled.

“Ron, Ron!” Hermione said, rushing towards him, “take the Horcrux off! You wouldn’t be saying this if you hadn’t been wearing it all day!” 

Lydia gasped and took a step back from him. No cruciatus curse would ever match the pain she felt from Ron saying this. Ron, who she counted as her family. Ron, who she loved like a brother and who she might one day call her brother-in-law. Lydia watched a wave of hurt wash over Harry’s face as Ron said the unthinkable. Harry’s hand went straight to his wand, and Ron did the same but Lydia was quicker than either of them.

_ “Protego!”  _

The invisible shield expanded between them. Separating Ron from Lydia, Harry and Hermione. The force of the spell forced them backwards. Harry and Ron were looking at each other in a way that they had never before. Next to Lydia, Hermione was crying quietly.

“Then GO!” Harry roared, “see if I care!” 

“Fine!” Ron yelled. He turned to Hermione, “Are you coming or are you staying?”

“What - Ron, I’m staying! Obviously, I’m staying! We said we’d help them!” Hermione said. 

“Leave the Horcrux,” Harry said.

Ron yanked the chain from his neck and threw it down onto the armchair. Before he left, he looked at Hermione.

“I get it. You choose him,” 

“What? Ron! No! Come back! Come back!” 

She tried to go after him but the Shield Charm stopped him. By the time Lydia removed it, Ron had already left the tent, taking his bag with him. Hermione swept past them, and Harry and Lydia stood in silence, staring at each other.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, “don’t blame yourself,”

After a few minutes, Hermione returned to the tent, her wet hair plastered to her face. 

“He’s gone! He disapparated!” She cried, throwing herself into a chair and beginning to cry.

“I’m taking first watch,” Lydia said into the silence. 

No one argued. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Also, if anyone cares, I’m going to start uploading little short stories about this fic. I’ve already uploaded one so if you want to read it, feel free! 
> 
> -E.


	23. Professor Black

Lydia stared blankly ahead of her as heavy rain beat down around her. It had only been two hours since Ron had left, and she had never felt so betrayed in her life. To blame her for Georges capture and then to say that she had no idea what it was like to lose people it made her want to punch someone. Possibly him. She angrily wiped the tears from her eyes and stared into the trees. As much as she did want to fight him, she also wanted to hug him because at least he knew how she was feeling about George. 

They should have just broken up before it was to late. After fifth year, Lydia should have just broken up with him and got it out of the way. Even though it was the last thing that she wanted to do, at least he would have been safe. At least would have just been back at The Burrow with the others, not having to fight for his life. She tried not to think of where he was. A flash of green light seemed to cloud her very being every time she thought about him, only to be replaced by the image of his body lay spread eagled on the ground, his blue eyes blank. 

“Lydia, do you want me to take over?” Harry asked. 

“No, it's fine,” she said, “I probably won't sleep, anyway,” 

He sat down next to her. 

“He didn't mean what he said,” Harry said, “About George...it's not your fault,” 

“What if it is, though?” Lydia asked, “I mean, if we were never together in the first place they wouldn't have come after him,” she ran a hand through her hair, “we should have just broken up,”

“Did you want to break up with him, though?” Harry asked.

“Obviously not, but-”

“There you go then,” he said firmly, “You didn't want to break up with him so you didn't. And, Lydia, you even said it yourself...he knew what he was getting into. He's not stupid,” 

“I mean, I can think of many times when he was  _ very  _ stupid,” Lydia muttered. 

Harry laughed and shook his head, “You know what I mean,” 

“I still think I was stupid. You broke up with Ginny,” she said, “And you didn't want to, did you?” He didn't say anything, “Oh, wait...you did?” 

“We’re talking about your disastrous love life, not mine,” 

The next morning, they ate breakfast in silence and Lydia was quite sure that none of them had slept. Harry put the Horcrux around his neck as Hermione got all their things together. Lydia pretended not to notice that Hermione was dawdling. She kept on unpacking and packing her bag. Harry was obsessively looking around, as though waiting for a ginger-haired figure to emerge from the trees. And as angry as she was at Ron, Lydia couldn't help but do the same thing. 

In the end, they couldn't stay any longer. They joined hands and Apparated away to the bottom of a windswept hill near a stream. Hermione dropped their hands straight away and walked away from them. Lydia and Harry glanced at each other but didn't say anything. Harry put up the tent whilst Lydia walked around them, putting the protective enchantments up. Once they were done, Hermione, without looking at either them, walked into the tent and dropped down into the armchair, burying her face into a book. Though, Lydia was quite sure that she was only using the book to stop them from seeing that she was crying. 

The most annoying thing about what Ron had said, was that it was all true. He was right, they were no closer to finding another Horcrux and had gone on what Lydia was beginning to think was a suicide mission, with little to no information about what they actually had to do. Since August, all they had come across was a radio station and a locket. It wasn't really much to brag about. 

“Can you hear talking?” Harry asked suddenly one evening. 

“Can I hear- oh, wait...yes,” Lydia said, jumping up. 

“Did you put all the enchantments up?” Hermione asked 

“Yes. About five times. I do it obsessively,” she said. She grabbed her bag and pulled out three Extendable Ears, passing them to Harry and Hermione. 

“There ought to be a few salmon in here, or d’you reckon it's too early in the session?” Asked a weary male voice,  _ “Accio Salmon!” _

There were several splashed and then the slapping sounds of fish against flesh. Lydia’s stomach grumbled but she ignored it and pressed the Ear deeper into her own. Over the rushing sound of the stream, she could hear a language that wasn't English. There seemed to be two speakers, one had a slightly lower voice than the other. 

The first man spoke again. 

“Here, Griphook, Gornuk,”

“Goblins,” Hermione whispered. 

“Thank-you,” the goblins said together. 

“So, how long have you three been on the run?” asked another voice, “has it been long?”

“That's Tonk’s dad, Ted,” Harry muttered to them, “I didn't know he was on the run...” 

“Six weeks...maybe seven. I don't know, I lose count,” said the first weary voice, “Met up with Griphook first, and then Gornuk,” he sighed, “Nice to have a bit of company, isn't it? What made you leave, Ted?” 

“Knew they were coming for me,” Ted replied, “I heard Death Eaters were in the are last week and decided I better run for it. I refused to register as a Muggle-born, see. So I knew it was a matter time. My wife is pure-blood though, so she should be OK. Then I met Dean, here, what, a few days ago, son?” 

“Yeah,” said another voice. Lydia almost shouted in excitement as she recognised the voice of Dean Thomas. 

“Muggle-born?” asked the first man.

“No idea,” said Dean, “My dad left my mum when I was a kid. I've got not proof he was a wizard, though,” 

There was silence for a while as they began to eat, but then Ted spoke again.

“I’ve got to say, Dirk, I'm surprised to run into you. Pleased, of course, but surprised all the same. Word was you'd been caught,” 

“I was,” said Dirk, “I was halfway to Azkaban when I made a break for it, Stunned Dawlsh and nicked his broom. It was easier than you'd think, actually. I don't reckon he's quite right at the moment. Probably Confunded,” 

“So where do you two fit in?” Ted asked and Lydia was sure he was speaking to the Goblins, “I was under the impression that the Goblins were, er, for the other side,” 

“You had a false impression,” said the higher-voiced of the goblins, “We take no sides. This is a wizards war,”

“How come you're in hiding, then?”

“The sword of Gryffindor,” 

Lydia almost screamed. Hermione punched her in the side, her eyes wide. 

“Lost here,” Dean said. 

“Didn't you hear about the kids that tried to steal Gryffindor’s sword out of Snape's office?” Dirk asked. 

“I work with Bill Weasley at the bank. It was his younger sister and a couple of her friends,” Griphook said, “Snape caught them trying to get the sword back down the staircase,” 

“Ah, God bless ‘em. What did they think they were going to do? Use it on You-Know-Who? Or Snape himself?” Ted asked. 

“Well, whatever they thought they were going to do with it doesn't matter now. Snape moved it to Gringotts,” Dirk said. 

The goblins laughed. 

“What?” Ted asked. 

“It's a fake,” rasped Griphook, “The Sword of Gryffindor. It's an excellent copy, a magnificent one, in fact. The original one, however, was forged centuries ago by goblins and had certain properties only goblin-made armour possesses. Wherever the genuine sword of Gryffindor is, it is not in a vault at Gringotts Bank,” 

“I see,” said Ted, “And I take it that you didn't bother telling the Death Eaters this,” 

“I saw no reason to trouble them with the information,” Griphook said smugly to raucous laughter. 

Inside the tent, Lydia’s heart was pounding in her chest. She knew that there was a reason that Dumbledore had left her the sword. That must have been how Dumbledore had destroyed the ring...

“What happened to Ginny and the others?” Dean asked. 

“Oh, they were punished, and cruelly,” said Griphook. 

“They’re OK, though?” Ted asked. 

“They suffered no serious injury, as far as I am aware,” Griphook said. 

“Lucky for them, with Snape's track record and all...” Ted said. 

“You believe those Potters then, do you?” Dirk asked, “You believe that Snape killed Dumbledore? And that they’re the Chosen Ones?”

“I know them,” said Dean, “I reckon they’re the real deal...you know, the Chosen Ones and all that,” 

“Even the girl? Lydia?” Dirk asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I reckon there's something up with her, you know. All those stories about her being in Slytherin, and being able to speak Parseltongue and what she did to that Death Eater last summer...” 

“My wife was in Slytherin,” Ted said lightly. 

“Yeah, but she can't speak to snakes can she? Her brother can't do that,” Dirk said darkly, “And, he also doesn't kill Death Eaters by  _ blowing them up _ ,” 

“She’d just seen her dad die in front of her very eyes. What would you do?” Ted asked, “they've been through a lot, those kids,”

“I still think there's something off about her...” Dirk said. 

“Nah, she's not like that,” Dean said, “She’s a bit harder to warm to than Harry, but she's not a Dark Witch if that's what you're implying,” 

“It's hard to know what to believe these days, isn't it. If you go off what the Prophet is saying-”

“The Prophet?” Ted scoffed, “You deserve to be lied to if you're reading that. You want to try the Quibbler,”

“The Quibbler? Yeah, alright, Ted,” Dirk said, laughing. 

“Doesn't matter, anyway. We should be doing what we can to help those Potter kids,”

“Hard to help two kids who've vanished off the face of the earth, isn't it?” Dirk said, “Unless they've killed them, of course,”

“Ah...don't say that,” Ted said, “Anyway, we should get going,” 

Lydia yanked the Extendable Ear out of her ear and turned to Harry and Hermione, a grin spreading across her face despite everything. Hermione ran over to her bag and pulled something out of it. It took Lydia a few moments to realise that it was a portrait. 

“I got this from Grimmauld Place,” Hermione explained, “I thought it might come in handy at some point - it's Phineas Nigellus’ portrait!” She cleared her throat, “Professor Black? Professor Black? Please could we speak to you?” 

“‘Please’ always helps,” came the cold, snide voice of Phineas Nigellus as he slid into his portrait, “Although-”

_ “Obscuro!”  _ Hermione cried.

A thick black blindfold appeared over his eyes, causing him to bump against the frame and shriek with pain.

“Ouch!” He yelled, “How dare you! This is a great work of art! Who are you?” 

“It doesn't matter who we are,” Harry said quickly, “We want to ask you some questions about the Sword of Gryffindor,” 

“Is that the elusive Mr Potter?” 

“Maybe,” Harry said, and Lydia knew that this would keep him interested. “Where's the Sword?”

“Did he- um- did he take it out for cleaning?” Hermione asked. 

Phineas Nigellus sniggered, “ _ Cleaning?  _ Obviously not, you simple girl. Goblin-made metal does not need cleaning. It repels everything but the things that make it stronger,” 

Lydia's jaw dropped as she remembered a History of Magic lesson in their fourth year. She closed her eyes and she saw Professor Binns floating just above his armchair, droning on with himself as usual:  _ “Goblin-armour only takes in that which makes it stronger. It can become practically indestructible,” _

“Professor Black, when was the last time Dumbledore used the sword?” Lydia asked, beginning to realise something that had been so obvious all the time. 

“I believe that the last time Professor Dumbledore removed the sword was to crack open a ring,” Phineas Nigellus said, confirming everything that Lydia had been thinking.

“Did you tell Snape this?” Lydia asked.

“ _ Professor  _ Snape has more important things to worry about than the many eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. Good day!” And he sidled back out of of his  portrait. Hermione shoved the portrait back into her bag, laughing.

“The sword! It can destroy Horcruxes!” Lydia exclaimed, “Goblin metal is different to normal metal! It only takes in that which makes it stronger! Don't you remember what Professor Binns said?”

“Never,” Harry said. 

“I stabbed the Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor! It's impregnated with the Basilisk venom which can destroy the Horcrux!” Lydia yelled, actually jumping up and down. She turned to Hermione, “I got that right, didn't I?”

“Yes!” Hermione said, “Oh, Lydia! This is amazing!” 

“But where is it?” Harry asked, “If he moved it...” 

“It could be anywhere!” Hermione said, “OK, OK...” She said, trying to calm them down, “Here's what we’ll do. I’ll go and get some food, and then tomorrow we start looking. There's no point in doing it yet, we’re not thinking straight,” 

That night, Lydia couldn't sleep. Her mind was working too fast for her to even consider sleep. She took over watch from Hermione and settled herself in the mouth of the tent, turning her wand over and over again in her hand.  _ Horcruxes. Sword. George. Horcruxes. George. Sword.  _ It was all that she could think about. Finding the sword meant that they could destroy the Horcruxes. And, if they found the Horcruxes, and managed to destroy them, then they would probably be able to find George. Providing he was still alive. No, she told herself firmly, he was alive. There was no way he wouldn't be alive. They wouldn't kill him.  _ But they would probably torture him,  _ a horrible voice said in the back of her mind,  _ even if you find him, they could have tortured him to insanity. Remember Frank and Alice Longbottom? He might just be giving you sweet wrappers instead of a wedding ring.  _

“No, he won’t,” she said out loud, “that’s not true,”

“Did you say something, Lydia?” Harry called from inside the tent. 

“No,” she said quickly, “no. You can go to sleep, if you want,” 

Something that she felt was keeping her sane was the fact that there was still people out there fighting. Even the goblins seemed to be on their side, however grudgingly that the support might have been. Even though that Dirk didn’t seem to be her biggest fan. “ _ I reckon there's something up with her, you know. All those stories about her being in Slytherin, and being able to speak Parseltongue and what she did to that Death Eater last summer...”.  _ She frowned at the floor, wondering how many people believed that she was on the same level as Voldemort himself. Those kinds of rumours had followed her around Hogwarts since her first year. And, in second year, when everyone discovered that she could speak to snakes, those rumours only intensified. 

And, as the Horcrux beat away next to her own heart, she thought about how it had never changed her. It had caused Ron to say the worst things possible, and things that he would never say otherwise. Possibly even things that he would never think. It caused Harry and Hermione to dissolve in the worst moods and be unable to cast the spells they would usually have no trouble casting under any other circumstance. 

But it made no difference to her. Why? Was her soul really as dark as Voldemort’s? The more she thought about it, the more sense it made to her. Maybe what people had said about her all along had been true. After years of trying to dispel the rumours, maybe she should just own it.

“No,” she said, speaking out loud  again, “it’s just the Horcrux speaking,” 

“Are you speaking to yourself?” Harry asked. He nudged her shoulder, “I’ll take this watch. You’re going mad,”

“Yeah, probably,” she muttered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I’m really excited to write the next few chapters that are coming up and I hope you all enjoy them as well!! 
> 
> -E.


	24. Godric's Hollow

Before they knew it, December was upon them. The weather got even harsher and Lydia had taken to wearing as many layers as she possibly could, which wasn't great mobility wise. Wrapped up in four different jumpers, three pairs of gloves and ever scarf that she had ever owned, she sat with her arms tightly folded in the mouth of the tent. Her breath rose in the air as she breathed and she was so cold, she was beginning to think that she probably wouldn't make it to the next day.

They still hadn't spoken about Ron. Not with Hermione, anyway, who seemed more than to happy to pretend that he never existed. Perhaps to compensate for the fact that his absence made the tent seem even bigger than it was, Hermione had taken to propping the portrait of Phineas Nigellus up in the chair that Ron would have occupied. They never found anything out of him, and he never found anything out of them. Occasionally, he would pop his head back into the portrait and the three of them would sit in a stubborn silence until he got bored and went back to his other portrait. Lydia had no doubt that he was probably doing this on Snape's orders, but they were still alive, so he couldn't have found out anything consequential.

“I’ve been thinking-”

“That's a first,” Lydia said.

Harry ignored her.

“I think we should go to Godric's Hollow,”

Lydia looked up at him and frowned. They had already decided that they wouldn't be doing that. It was definitely too dangerous. She looked over at Hermione who, to Lydia’s surprise, was nodding.

“Yes, I've been thinking the same thing,” she said.

“Did you hear him right?” Lydia asked.

“Of course I heard him right,” Hermione said lightly, “But, I've been thinking-”

“Not a first,”

“-and we’re looking for the sword, right?”

Lydia and Harry both nodded.

“Well, what if Dumbledore left it there? It makes sense!”

“Um, does it?” Harry asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Of course it makes sense! Godric Gryffindor was born there! Where else would Dumbledore leave the sword for us to find?”

“That's where he was born?” Harry asked, gobsmacked.

“Have you ever read A History of Magic?” Hermione asked.

“Yes! Well...just the once but...that's not the point!” He said.

“The point is is that Bathilda Bagshot still lives at Godric’s Hollow and we know she was a friend of your parents from the letter your mum wrote, so what if Dumbledore gave her the sword? What if she has it?” She was speaking very fast and sounded much more like her old self again. Lydia was half expecting her to announce that she was going to the library.

“Well, are we going?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Not now!” Lydia exclaimed, “Merlin, Harry, we have to plan! I can guarantee something will go wrong whilst we’re there,”

“Well,” he said, “It will with that attitude,”

Lydia resisted the urge to punch him and instead vented her frustration by throwing a cushion at him. Hermione rolled her eyes at the two of them and pulled a book towards her, no doubt beginning a plan that would undoubtedly go wrong.

Within three days, they had a plan. It wasn't a very good plan, but it was a plan, and that was all that mattered. Hermione had ventured into a muggle village and stolen some hair from unsuspecting Muggles. They still had some Polyjuice Potion left from when they left the Dursleys a lifetime ago. Like when they had a Charms test, Hermione turned obsessive and kept on repeating the plan over and over again. Lydia wouldn't not have been surprised if she started speaking in her sleep.

“Ready?” Hermione asked in the evening, “We have everything, don't we?”

“Do you have your bag?” Lydia asked.

“Yes,”

“Then we have everything,”

“I still think we should go under the cloak,” Hermione said, “If people recognise us-”

“We look like middle aged Muggles, Hermione, even You-Know-Who can't recognise us now,” Harry said impatiently. He had the same look of feverish excitement in his eye that he did before a Quidditch game, “Let's go,”

They joined hands and Apparated to Godric’s Hollow, arriving in the square. Lydia looked around as the snow fell heavy around them. It looked completely different from when it did back at James’ funeral. It looked like the front of a Christmas card in the snow. Hermione tugged on her sleeve, pointing at something.

“Look,” she whispered.

Lydia looked up and frowned, confused as to why Hermione was pointing at a war memorial. But then, Lydia moved closer and the breath caught in her throat; the memorial had been replaced with one from a different war. A war that not many people knew about. Lily and James Potter stood tall, smiling down at the two of them. In Lily’s arms was a baby boy with a tuft of messy hair and no scar on his face. In James’ was a baby girl, holding onto her fingers with no scar on her face. The Potters, as they were before the night of October 31st in 1981.

Tears sprung to Lydia’s eyes and she looked away. This might have been how the rest of the Wizarding World remembered the Potters, but it was not how she did. The picture taken at Slughorn’s Christmas Party the previous year sprung to mind. Instead of two babies and a mum and dad, there had been two sixteen year olds and just a dad. Lydia thought that she might have never been happier than in her dads company, knowing he was always there.

“We should go,” Harry said, his voice shaking lightly, “We have things to do,”

“Yeah,” Lydia muttered, “Come on,”

They walked on, and Lydia resisted the urge to turn back around and look at the family that she had always deserved. When they held the funeral for James, Lydia was too upset to notice her surroundings and she supposed that anyone who did know about the statue thought better than to tell her. Lydia couldn't even bare to think about how she would have reacted if she had seen the statue.

They passed a church from which Christmas carols could be heard. Lydia felt a pang as she thought back to Christmas at Hogwarts...Hagrid carrying the magnificent trees into the Great Hall, Peeves singing rude versions of the carols much to the dismay of Professor McGonagall, the mouth watering feast and George appearing at her shoulder with a branch of Mistletoe and refusing to go away until she kissed him...

“I think it's Christmas Eve,” Hermione said in a small voice.

The doors of the Church opened and the congregation poured out, all walking into the very same pub that they had gone to after James’ funeral. Some of the locals, so full of Christmas spirit, stopped and waved at them before going in. They turned their back on the pub and carried on walking. Lydia shoved her hands deep into her pocket and taking it all in. She could never imagine spending Christmas here. If Lily and James had never been killed, maybe they would have a joint Christmas with the Weasley’s. They might have even invited Hermione's mum and dad. After all, Lily was Muggleborn and Mr Weasley loved Muggles. Remus and Sirius would be there, too, Lydia thought. Frank and Alice Longbottom might have come round the day before with Neville...

“Can we go in here?” Harry asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned and her eyes fell upon the cemetery where James and Lily were buried. Hermione bit her lip.

“I don't know, if someone sees us looking at their graves-”

“Please,” Harry said, “I-I want to spend Christmas with them. Both of them. Together,”

“Of course,” Hermione breathed, tears sparkling in her eyes, “Yes, let's go...”

Lydia lead the way through the gate. The route that they had taken to the graveside had been burned into her mind. George had been walking next to her and she had never clung onto his hand so tightly. She would give anything to have him walking with her right now.

“Wait!” Harry said, making Lydia and Hermione jump, “Wait, look at this,”

Lydia doubled back and walked over to him. He was stood at a grave that wasn't their parents. For a moment, she couldn't understand what was wrong with him, but then she looked closer and saw the same symbol that had been hanging around Xenophilius Lovegood's neck, and the one that was scribbled on the title page of Hermione’s copy of The Tale of Beedle the Bard.

“How strange,” Hermione said, frowning, “I wonder why it's here. Whose grave is it?” she leant forward and brushed the snow off it. Beneath the ivy that was growing onto it and the fact that it was crumbling, Lydia could just about read the name, Peverell.

“Have you read that name anywhere before, Hermione?” Harry asked, a note of urgency in his voice.

She paused for a moment.

“No. I don't recognise it,”

“If she's not read it then it's not important,” Lydia said quietly, “Come on,”

They walked the rest of the way to the graves. As they went, Lydia realised that she had never actually seen her parents grave before. At the funeral, Lydia had been unable to look straight forward and had managed to get through it without seeing them. Now, she couldn think of a good enough excuse to not look at it. Not that she cared, Harry was right, it would be good to spend Christmas with them for once.

“Here,” Harry said. His voice sounded strange.

The grave was made of marble and shone brightly through the darkness. Lydia supposed that it must have been magically reinforced for no snow fell on it and despite its sixteen year age, it looked brand new, as though it had been put there just that morning. Feeling tears welling up inside her, Lydia reached out and grabbed Harry's hand. Hermione stood behind them slightly, as though understanding that this was something that was just between the two of them.

James Potter   
March 27th 1960 - October 31st 1981  
June 24th 1995 - June 30th 1997

Lily Potter   
January 30th 1960 - October 31st 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death,” Lydia read aloud. She turned to Harry, “Why is that there? Why've they written that on it? Isn't that a Death Eater idea?

“No,” he said gently, “I asked Remus that at dads funeral. It means...it means that death can't separate us. Not really, anyway. Their still here with us, aren't they?”

“He had just over two years...” Lydia whispered, “He deserved more. They both deserved more,”

“I know. But we’ll make sure that they didn't die for nothing. We’ll survive because that's what they wanted us to do,”

James’ voice echoed through her head, “Lydia, you and Harry living one more week would have been enough for your mother,” and she wiped tears from her eyes again. Suddenly terrified that they weren't doing enough for them, for anyone. She looked down at the ground. Lily and James Potter had no idea that their two children were stood above them now, embarking on a journey that they might not come back from. She wondered what they would say to them. Would they encourage them to go on and do it? Or would they tell them no. That this wasn't their war to fight.

“We should have brought flowers. I didn't think.” Harry said.

“I've got it,” Hermione said, stepping forward and moving her wand in a circle. A wreath of roses appeared, turning in midair. Harry reached out and grabbed it, carefully laying it on the grave.

He straightened up again and wiped his eyes.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

Lydia knew that he wasn't speaking to her.

“We should go,” Hermione said.

“Yeah,” Lydia said, clearing her throat, “No, you're right. There's no point in dwelling on something we can't ch-”

“No,” Hermione said, “it's because someone's staring at us,”

“We don't look like ourselves,” Harry pointed out, “We look like Muggles,”

“Muggles who are looking at your parents graves, Harry,”

Lydia looked up and followed Hermione's gaze. There was indeed a shadowy figure stood in the trees. She tried to convince herself that they were a homeless person but followed Hermione anyway, trying to look as natural as possible whilst walking as quickly as possible.

They took a right turn at random and happened upon a cul-de-sac full of thatched roofed cottage. Lydia looked around, thinking that this was the sort of place she might like to own one day. They wandered down the pavement and as they went, Lydia imagined her and George sat in their own living room, and Harry, Ron and Hermione coming to visit at the weekend when they had time and-

“Oh, Merlin...” she whispered, coming to a halt at the bottom of the cul-de-sac.

“What? Oh, no-” Harry said.

Hermione gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, perhaps to stop herself from screaming because that's what Lydia felt like doing. A cottage stood before them in ruins. The top of the house had been completely demolished and Lydia watched open mouthed as a wooden beam swayed in the wind, still hanging on by just a splinter.

It was here. It was here that Lord Voldemort had come to kill the Potter family, and it was here that Lily Potter had stood in front of the cot that held her children in the hopes that they might just survive. As though she was back in third year, Lily Potter’s dying words echoed through her mind.

“Not Harry and Lydia! Please...have mercy...have mercy! Not Harry and Lydia! Please - I’ll do anything!”

Harry moved forward and put his hand on the gate. Lydia lurched forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him back.

“You can't go in there! It's been destroyed- oh, Harry, look!”

Harry touching the gate seemed to have done something. Out of the ground, a sign rose up. The three of them bent forward and read what was written on it:

On this spot, on the night of 31st October 1981,   
Lily and James Potter lost their lives,   
Their children, Harry and Lydia, remain the only wizards to have ever to have survived the Killing Curse.   
This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore their family apart.

All around this, other witches and wizards had scribbled messages to the Children Who Lived. The most recent shining brightly over the rest. “Good luck, Harry and Lydia, wherever you are!” “If you ever read this, Harry and Lydia, we’re all behind you!” “Long live Harry and Lydia Potter!”

“They shouldn't have written on the sign!” Hermione said indignantly.

“I think it's brilliant!” Harry said beaming.

Lydia nodded. “Yeah, I mean, it's like an act of rebellion, isn't it? Coming to the place where he started all this and writing messages like, “I stand with the Potters,”. That isn't exactly a popular sentiment right now, is it?”

At last, Hermione smiled and nodded. “You're right,” she looked back up at the house, “I can't believe it, though...this is where it all happened...where you made history,”

“Nah,” Lydia said, “We didn't make history. Mum did. She's the one who jumped in front of our cot...”

Once again, Lily Potter’s voice reverberated around her mind. “Please! Please! Have mercy! Have mercy! Take me instead! Don't hurt them! Take me!”

“There's someone here,” Harry whispered, “Turn around,”

Lydia and Hermione slowly turned around. A short woman stood just metres around them. At once, she knew that this woman was not a Muggle for she was staring quite obviously at the Potter house. Hermione was breathing heavily next to her and Lydia knew all she wanted to was Apparate as far away from this woman as possible, and Lydia herself was more than happy to do that.

“Bathilda? Bathilda Bagshot?” Harry asked tentatively.

She nodded once and then gestured for them to follow. Harry glanced behind him at Lydia and Hermione and shrugged and then followed them. Hermione sighed and pulled Lydia along with her. Lydia could not think of a worse thing to do. They didn't even know if this woman was Bathilda Bagshot! She was quite sure that none of them had ever seen a picture of her. Lydia kept her hand in her pocket, holding her wand tightly and preparing to cast any spell at a moments notice.

She lead them to a tiny derelict house. Inside was as depressing as the outside. Grime covered the walls and windows and, as they walked around, small puffs of dusts rose from the carpet. There was no light and it smelled horrible. Hermione choked slightly and covered her nose with her coat sleeve. This wasn't the kind of house that Lydia imagined a celebrated magical historian to live in. If anything, it was the kind of house that Lydia imagined Professor Binns to live in, and he was the opposite of a celebrated magical historian.

Bathilda turned around and made direct eye contact with Lydia, who took a step backwards.

“Upstairs,” Bathilda rasped, pointing upstairs.

“Oh...OK...” Lydia said, turning to the stairs.  
  
Harry and Hermione went to follow her, but Bathilda stopped them, shaking her head. She pointed at Lydia, then to herself and then upstairs.

“Just me on my own?” Lydia asked.

Bathilda nodded.

“Lydia, you were just-” Harry began.

“I’ll be fine,” Lydia said. “Fine,” she added to Hermione who looked terrified.

Suddenly walking quite quickly, Bathilda Bagshot hurried past Lydia and upstairs. Lydia waved at Harry and Hermione and followed her. The stairs were very narrow and very steep, and Lydia had visions of Bathilda tumbling down them, but she didn't let that stop her. Her heart was beating out of control and all she could think about was the Sword. Surely that was why Bathilda was showing her upstairs and Dumbledore had probably left her strict instructions to give it to Lydia and Lydia only, that's why she was so intent on only having Lydia follow her upstairs.

She was lead into dark master bedroom and she scanned every corner of it, looking out for that ruby encrusted hilt. Bathilda touched her arm and pointed into the corner of the room where there was a dark bundle. Lydia's heart did a somersault in her chest and she dived over the bed towards it. Hands shaking, she yanked the pair of old robes away and looked down eagerly, expecting to see the sword but it was just an old broomstick.

“This is-”

A loud hissing noise cut her off. Confused, she spun around and screamed. Bathilda Bagshot had gone limp and was slumped against the wall. For a moment, Lydia thought that she was dead but something strange and horrible was happening; her head snapped to the side and her neck opened up. Lydia moved closer, trying to see what was happening, and then a snake lunged at her.

Lydia screamed again and fell backwards onto the bed. She scrambled up, her wand pointed at the snake as it reared its head, ready to pounce again. And then she realised that this wasn't any old snake, but Voldemort's snake.

“CONFRINGO!” She screamed, “HARRY! HARRY! HERMIONE! HELP! THERE’S A SNAKE! HARRY!”

The snake pounced at her again and she only just managed to move out of the way. Grabbing an old chair from the writing desk near the door, Lydia jumped over Nagini’s tale and smashed the chair over her head. She hissed and flailed wildly just as the door banged open and Harry and Hermione burst in.

“Fuck off!” Harry yelled as the snake made towards him, “STUPEFY!” but every spell they cast seemed to bounce right off of her.

“HERE!” Hermione yelled, launching herself over the bed towards Lydia and yanking her towards her, “Harry! Grab Lydia's hand!”

Harry dived towards them and Nagini missed him by inches. Suddenly, Lydia's scar began to burn and she collapsed sideways into Hermione, clutching at her head.

“‘Mione!” she gasped, “he’s coming! We need to go! He's coming!”

“Bombarda Maxima!” Hermione yelled, pointing her wand at Nagini's. The floor beneath her disappeared and she fell through to the bottom floor.

Everything became very confused very quickly. Lydia's scar burned even hotter and just as Hermione's hand closed around her own, she looked straight into a pair of red eyes and then the house around them disappeared, and they were back surrounded by trees.

“I hate snakes,” Lydia muttered, falling to the ground.

“What?” Harry asked, as Hermione ran around them putting the protective enchantments up.

“Snakes,” she repeated, “I hate them. They’re terrifying,”

Even Hermione stopped what she was doing to stare at her, “You're scared of snakes?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, “they're horrible!”

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other and then began to laugh, taking Lydia by surprise.

“Is there a joke I'm missing out on or something?”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, helping her up, “I really am, it's just-” he burst into laughter again, “You're in Slytherin and you can speak to snakes but your scared of them!”

“It's like you want me to curse you,” she snapped.

He snorted and his hand went to his jeans pocket, but he frowned and then started turning around on the spot, looking for something. For one awful moment, Lydia though that he had lost the Horcrux but then she saw the chain around his neck and felt herself calm down.

“You OK?”

“I’ve lost my wand,” he said, “I can't believe it!”

“No, no, I have it,” Hermione said, though she was speaking in a very strange voice, “but, oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! I was trying to get us away from Nagini and I didn't cast straight!”

“What've you done?”

Hermione hung her head and held something up. Lydia gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth for Hermione was holding Harry’s hand, though it was split in two, barely hanging on.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“No, no,” Harry said, “No it's fine. I’ll just have to use yours and Lydia's for now,”

“Yeah, of course,” Lydia said quickly, “We can just do it in shifts if we have to,” 

"Right," he said, "I'm going to bed," 

Hermione looked at Lydia, tears in her eyes. 

"It's fine," Lydia said, "We'll find him a wand. We'll figure something out," 

Lydia wondered how many times they would say they would figure something out until they actually did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I hope you're still enjoying this! I feel like I say this all the time, but I have so many amazing things planned or this and I can't wait for you to read it! 
> 
> Thank-you for all the kudos, as well, it means a lot! 
> 
> -E.


	25. The Silver Doe

On Christmas Day, Hermione took over watch at midnight. Lydia gratefully crawled into bed, sinking into her pillows. Her dreams were confusing. Nagini weaved in and out of them with Ron stood over George's dead body, screaming at her about how this was all her fault. Lee Jordan stood behind them, commenting on everything as though he was commentating during a Quidditch match. She turned her back on Ron, trying to get away from it all, only to look into a mirror where her eyes glowed red like Voldemort's.

Harry shook her awake and passed her wand back to her. Since Hermione had accidentally broken his, he had started using hers. Hermione had reasoned that because they were twins, it would be more effective then if he used hers. He hadn't snapped at Hermione for anything, but Lydia could tell that he was holding back from getting really angry at her.

“Is there no way you can fix it?” He asked over breakfast that day.

Hermione tugged at the Horcrux around her neck and, quite patiently said, “No, Harry, you know I can't. I've already told you. When a wand is damaged that much, there's nothing you can do about it. Do you not remember Ron's wand in second year?”

With Harry being in this much of a bad mood, Lydia felt as though Hermione was being very courageous in bringing Ron up. He clenched his jaw and looked away for a moment before looking back up, and Lydia could tell that the smile on his face was forced.

“I know. I’ll get a proper one,”

They moved again that day. Hermione had become quite paranoid and was convinced that she could hear someone moving around near them and talking loudly. Lydia thought that she might have gone mad, but knew better than to get on the wrong side of Hermione when she was like this. They packed everything up and moved to yet another forest. Lydia thought she might die if she ever had to walk into a forest again after this.

“Where are we?” Harry asked.

“Forest of Dean,” Hermione explained, “I came camping here once with mum and dad,”

Lydia looked around, “All forests look the same and I hate them all,”

“You're a little ball of sunshine, aren't you?” Harry said brightly.

“That's all I'm here for,” she beamed.

She offered to take first watch. Harry pretended to kick up a fuss about it, but Lydia knew that he didn't really care. Although she would never say it to him, Lydia felt as though she wouldn't have slept well knowing that Harry would be looking out for them using a wand that he couldn't cast even the most simple of spells with. Hermione made her promise to wake her up at midnight and then bid her goodnight, disappearing into the tent and holding The Tales of Beedle the Bard close to her chest.

“Night,” Harry said.

Lydia pulled an armchair into the mouth of the tent and, wrapping herself up in five jumpers and covering herself in all the blankets that she kept on her bed, she curled up in the chair and tightly gripped her wand. The snow that was falling thick and fast was actually quite unnerving. She kept on thinking that she could see a figure moving in the trees and, twice, she thought she heard someone call her name.

“You're just hearing things,” she told herself firmly, “there's no one around. It's just us,”

Her mind wandered back to Godric’s Hollow, and back to the statue of Lydia, Harry and their parents. She wondered if James had known of its existence. Had he gone back to Godric's Hollow? He must have done...how else would he have come back to life? He must have woken up again in the place that he had thought home. Lydia frowned and picked at the thread on her jumper. Why had she never asked him that? She couldn't understand how, between her and Harry, they had never asked what had actually happened when he had come back to life. Had he woke up below ground or above? How did he get back to Hogwarts? Had he been buried with his wand? If he was, he could have easily Apparated away...but, no, because Lydia struggled to do the most simple spells when she was tired in the morning, how on earth would James have managed to Apparate after fourteen years of being dead?

There was so much she should have asked him. She should have asked more about Lily. They had only ever spoke about her in passing apart from once in the Christmas of Lydia’s fifth year. “I see a lot of your mother in you,” he had told her. Lydia snorted to herself. She felt like the direct antithesis of Lily Potter. Lily Potter, who was in Gryffindor and never accused of being a Dark Witch. Lily Potter who Hagrid had once told her was one of the most powerful witches that he knew, but only ever used the power she had for good.

Lily Potter would never have killed a Death Eater. It was strange, really, because the Death Eaters probably didn't think about the people they killed once it was done, but Lydia couldn't stop thinking about what she had done. She had felt that the Killing Curse was beneath her and so had compensated by killing that man in the most violent way possible. Did that really make her any different from the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange? It was the sort of thing that Bellatrix would have done and that didn't fill Lydia with much joy. Not much did. She thought about the look on George’s face after she had killed the Death Eater and it made her feel even worse. It was the first time she had ever known him to not immediately smile when he saw her.

Harry wouldn't have done that. If Harry had been in her shoes, he would probably have just disarmed the Death Eater and moved on. Lydia often thought that things would be ten times better if she was more like Harry. He always seemed to be able to do the right thing and he was hated by people on the other side, not by people who were supposedly their allies. She wondered how many people counted themselves as allies of just the Boy who Lived, and not his possibly evil sister.

That had essentially been what Rita Skeeter had written in their fourth year: “Whilst Harry Potter might be your stereotypical handsome hero, the Girl who Lived might be anything but your stereotypical righteous heroine. With a Slytherin tie hanging around her neck and a glare that could cut someone in half, I wonder how she could have ever possibly vanquished the Dark Lord once and for all. If anything, she herself looks like she's halfway to become the next You-Know-Who!” Lydia snorted as she remembered that particular article. Fred and George reacted to it in the only way Fred and George could. Whenever they passed her in the corridor they would loudly say, “The Dark Lady is coming through! She’s late for Transfiguration and will kill you if you don't move out the way!”

It was hard to believe that back in fourth year, Lydia's biggest worries were what Rita Skeeter would next write about her and what she was going to do with her hair at the Yule Ball. If she could go back and find her fourteen year old self, she'd probably tell her to actually enjoy herself because soon, everything would go to shit. Complete and utter shit.

A bright light distracted her from her thoughts. Frowning, Lydia looked up. At first, she thought that it was a massive group of people with torches, but she quickly recognised it as the silvery glow of a Patronus Charm. They weren't the only Wizards in the forest. Lydia glanced behind her at the tent and almost went to shout for Harry and Hermione, but something told her that this was something just for her.

Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, Lydia slowly rose from the chair and walked towards the light. The closer she got, the more she could see that it had a shape. Heart beating with a mixture o fear and excitement, Lydia peered closer to it and she was sure that her heart stopped beating for a second.

It was a Doe.

Her immediate thought was that she had accidentally cast a Patronus without realising, but that was practically impossible. It was a tricky piece of magic that even the most experienced wizards couldn't cast. Then, her mind went straight to her mother. It couldn't be Lily. She was dead. Lydia had seen her grave but, then again, they had thought that James had been dead all that time and yet he came back. Could this Doe be about to lead her to Lily Potter back from the dead?

The Doe turned around and began to walk through the trees. A sense of calm overtook Lydia and she knew that as long as she was with this Doe, nothing could hurt her and so she hastened to follow her. The Doe, not being a physical being, walked gracefully over the overgrown roots of the trees, whereas Lydia kept on tripping over and there was a few times where she definitely nearly broke her ankle, but she didn't care. She needed to know what the Doe was about to show her.

They emerged from the trees to a clearing. Lydia whirled around, looking for her mother but she was not there. Disheartened, Lydia turned to look at the Doe. She bowed her head and then disappeared, bathing the clearing in darkness.

“No!” She exclaimed, suddenly realising how ridiculously stupid she had been to come away from the protection of the tent alone. Anyone could be around. She was half-expecting to see a flash of green light heading straight towards her. God, she thought, that would be an embarrassing way to die.

“Lumos,” she whispered, still glancing around.

Something red caught her eye and she hurried towards a pond that had frozen over. There was something beneath the ice but she couldn't quite see what it was. If this was Voldemort’s plan to lure her away from Harry and Hermione, it was working. She knew that she should probably go and get them both, but there was something keeping her in this clearing and she wouldn't leave until she figured out what it was.

“Lumos Maxima,”

The light on the tip of her wand grew brighter and she moved it closer to the pond and, in her excitement, slipped on the ice and fell to her knees for the Sword of Gryffindor was just below the ice. Lydia spun around again, facing the trees, trying to see if the caster of the Patronus had hung around.

“Mum?” She called, “Pr-Professor Dumbledore?” She knew that both of these people were a long shot, but a girl could hope. “Anyone?” There was no answer and she quickly shut up, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. If some Muggles found her, she couldn't think of many good excuses as to why there was a sword in the pond other than she was doing some sort of scavenger hunt.

Lydia straightened up again and looked down at it. The water was probably below freezing, but she couldn't really wait for the weather to warm up to get it. She glanced around. If this was the real sword, and she hoped to Merlin that it was, then she couldn't walk away from it. The Horcrux hung heavier than it ever had done around her neck. They had to get rid of it. They had to destroy it so that they could destroy him once and for all.

What was it that Dumbledore had said to her in second year? “Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that sword out of the hat,”. On reflection, Lydia felt that there was a difference between pulling a sword out of a hat than out of icy water but, then again, at least there was no Basilisk this time. Moreover, Lydia didn't feel like a true Gryffindor. She didn't even feel like a true Slytherin. She wasn't quite sure what it meant to be true to either house.

“Alright, Dumbledore,” she muttered, “time to find out how Gryffindor I actually am,” she pointed her wand at the ice, “Diffindo,” the ice cracked she stepped on it slightly with her foot. It gave way and sank to the bottom of the pond. Lydia bent down slightly and put the tip of her finger into the water, pulling it out straight away as the cold washed over her.

What was it that the Sorting Hat had said about Gryffindor? “Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart,”. Lydia bit down on her lip, she wasn't feeling very daring and she certainly didn't have have the nerve to jump into some freezing water. Surely there was a better way for her to get the sword, after all Slytherin’s would do anything to achieve what they wanted, including jumping into water.

“Oh, fuck it, I'll be dead soon anyway,” she said to no one in particular, carefully placing her wand on the floor so that it shone on the Sword. She put a Weightlessness Charm on her clothes, in the hope that keeping them on would somehow keep her warm. Terrified of losing the Horcrux when they were the closest to destroying it than they had been in a while, she kept in around her neck. “OK, Potter, let's get this over and done with. You’ve swam in the Black Lake, you'll be fine,”

Taking a deep breath and sending a quick prayer to a God that she didn't quite believe in, Lydia jumped in. The icy coldness washed over immediately and the breath rushed from her body. She forced her eyes open and saw the Sword at the bottom. As she dived own, the Horcrux seemed to come to life. It shot upwards and began to wrap itself tightly around her neck, pulling her to the ground. Lydia tried to scream, but she just took in a mouthful of water. She thrashed around in the water, her hands snatching at the Horcrux, trying to get it off her, but it was as though it was attached to her skin.

Any energy that she did have seemed to drain away from her and she began to sink that bottom of the pond, her eyes slowly shutting. Arms, presumably deaths, wrapped around her middle and she felt herself calm down again. It was over. She had done what she could, but it had not been enough.

Her head broke the surface of the water and the breath rushed back into her body. Someone pushed her back onto dry land and she stayed there, coughing and spluttering, her glasses askew. She was quite confused as to whether she was dead or alive. She felt like she was alive, but she had never been dead, so she could draw no reasonable comparison.

“You idiot,” someone said, pulling her up. They sounded familiar, “Why didn't you take that thing off before you dived?”

Lydia grabbed her glasses off the floor and shoved them back onto her face. The blurry figure in front of her came into focus. It was Ron. He was drenched, his sopping hair plastered to his face. In one hand, he held the Sword and in the other, the Horcrux. They stood apart from each other. There was a part of her that wanted to curse him into next year, but the better part of her won. Completely disregarding all the horrible things that he had said to her, Lydia launched herself at him, throwing his arms around his neck. He yelped slightly but hugged her back.

“I thought you were going to curse me,” he muttered, though he sounded relieved.

“I’d never c-curse you,” she said, her teeth chattering from the cold, “A-apart from a-all those times I’ve cursed y-you,” she looked over his shoulder, “s-so it was you?”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding confused.

“Y-you cast the Doe?”

“No!” he said, “my Patronus is a Jack Russell...I thought it was you,”

Lydia shook her head, “N-no. It came to me,”

“Oh,” he said frowning, “I thought I saw someone over there but then I saw you jump in the pool and I didn't want to wait around in case you didn't come back out,”

“Why are you here?” Lydia asked, “After everything-”

“Well, I, you know, I came back. If, um, if you still want me...” He cleared his throat, looking awkward.

“Ron,” she said, “obviously we still want you. You're my best friend. You just saved my life,”

“Yeah, well, I thought...I thought...” Ron stammered, “Whatever. I got the Sword,” he held it up, “Do you think that it's the real one?”

“Only one way to find out,” Lydia said, “It can destroy Horcruxes,” she explained, “if it's the real one, it’ll be impregnated with Basilisk venom. It should destroy it,”

She took the Horcrux off him and placed it on a bolder, staring at it in apprehension. Lydia knew that if they managed to destroy that here, they would be one step closer to destroying him. They were one step closer to all of this ending. Ron offered Lydia the Sword but she shook her head.

“No,” Lydia said, “It should be you,”

“Me?” Ron asked, looking shock, “why?”

“Because you pulled the Sword out of the pool,” Lydia said, “It has to be you. The Locket affected you more than it did me, Harry or Hermione. You have to do it. Please, Ron, we need to destroy it now.”

He didn't say anything.

“I'm going to ask it to open,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm, “and then stab it. Ready?”

He swallowed and then nodded, moving closer to the locket. Lydia turned away from Ron and looked at the Locket. It was easy to imagine that the green serpentine ‘S’ as a real slithering snake. She could hear Ron breathing heavily behind her and began to worry that he might start having a panic attack, which was the last thing any of them needed.

“One...two...three...open,” the last word came out as a hiss. The golden doors of the locket swung open, revealing a blinking living eye. It was not the scarlet, slitted eye of Lord Voldemort, but the dark eye of Tom Riddle.

“Stab,” said Lydia.

Ron raised the sword and Lydia held her breath, waiting for it to all be over. But then, a voice hissed from out of the Horcrux, taking them both by surprise.

“I have seen your heart, and it is mine,” it hissed, “I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All your desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible....”

“Don't listen to it, Ron!” Lydia shouted, “just stab it! Stab it!”

But he had frozen, the sword held above his head.

“Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter....least loved, now, by he girl who prefers your friend...second best, always, eternally overshadowed...”

“STAB IT!” Lydia bellowed.

Riddles eye suddenly gleamed scarlet and something rose out of the locket. It was Harry and Hermione, but they didn't look like themselves at all. Lydia actually took a step back from the locket.

Riddle-Harry laughed, “Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence...we laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption-”

“S-stab it!” Lydia said weakly.

“Presumption!” Riddle-Hermione echoed. Ron stared at her, horrified yet transfixed. His arm hung limply at his sword, the sword almost falling out of his hand, “who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you compared with the Boy Who Lived?”

“Stab it, Ron!” Lydia yelled, “COME ON!”

“You’re mother confessed,” Riddle-Harry sneered, “that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange...”

“Who wouldn't prefer, what woman would take you? You are nothing, nothing, nothing to him,” crooned Riddle-Hermione, and she wrapped him in an embrace and their lips met.

“RON! GET ON WITH IT!” Lydia screamed, “COME ON!”

Finally, Ron raised his arms above his head and moved forward to the locket. He glanced back at Lydia, and, for a moment, she thought that she saw a trace of red in his eyes. The sword flashed and he thrust the sword into the locket. There was a long, drawn-out scream and the clang of metal on metal.

Slowly, Lydia walked towards Ron. His eyes were back to their usual blue, though they were bloodshot. She turned to look at the locket, it was completely mangled and smoke rose from it, curling in the air.

“R-Ron,” Lydia said, rushing towards him as he fell to his knees, “It’s-it's alright...” She dropped next to him and hugged him. The fact that he didn't shove her away from him was a good sign. “It's not like that. Harry and Hermione, I mean. She cried for weeks she did, when you left. Barely looked at Harry. She's never looked at Harry, not when you're there anyway,” He still didn't say anything and she carried on, “Harry loves Hermione like a sister in the same way I love you like a brother,”

It took him awhile but he finally pulled away, looking at her with tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with tears, “I'm sorry that I was a prat and left. And I'm sorry...I'm sorry about what I said about George. I know it wasn't your fault and-” he glanced at her ring, “-and I know that you care about him, a lot. And, I know we’re technically not supposed to talk about your wedding, but I can't wait until you're officially a Weasley,” he grinned at her, “Lydia Weasley has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

“Who said you're invited, dickhead?”

“Oh,” Ron said, the grin melting off his face, “I just...you know...but...obviously...your wedding...and I supposed George would invite me but-p

“Ron,” Lydia said, “It was a joke. Obviously you're coming,”

“Yeah, obviously,”

Lydia grinned at him and picked his bag off the ground, “Come on, let's go and find the tent,”

It didn't take them long to find it. Not because it was easy to find, but because Harry and Hermione seemed to be running around, shouting her name. Lydia hadn't even thought about the fact that they might have woken up and found her to be missing.

“Lydia?” Harry was shouting, “Lydia? Lyds? Where are you? Lyds!”

“I'm here!” Lydia shouted, “Harry!”

“You absolute twat!” He yelled, “Hermione! She's here! You can't just walk away from us like that! I thought were dead! I was terrified, I was...” he trailed off as his eyes fell on Ron, “What are you doing here?”

Lydia interjected before Ron could answer.

“He destroyed the Horcrux,” she said quickly, grabbing his arm and pulling it up so that Harry could see the the mangled locked, “I found the Sword and he pulled it out and destroyed it. He saved my life, Harry,”

The last sentence seemed to stir something in him.

“He saved your life?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “It was in a pool and I jumped in to get it and I was still wearing the Horcrux. It tried to strangle me and I nearly drowned until he pulled me out. If he hadn't have found me, I would have died,”

Ron cleared his throat, “I wish I didn't leave. The moment I went, I wanted to come back but I couldn't find you. Your enchantments work. I couldn't see a thing,”

Harry and Ron looked at each other for a moment and then, at the exact same time, they walked forward and hugged. Lydia felt herself calm down. She had been terrified that Harry would try to attack Ron again.

“Lydia? Harry?”

Hermione ran over to them. Her face flushed. She looked at Lydia, shaking her head. “You c-can't, you can't do that! I thought- RON?” She screamed the last word so loudly that Lydia yelped slightly.

“Hey,” he said, smiling slightly and holding his arms up.

Hermione rushed towards him, and Lydia thought that she might hug him, but then she started punching every inch of his body that she could reach, “You complete arse Ronald Weasley!” She shouted, “You crawl back here after weeks and all you say is ‘hey’?”

She turned back round to Harry who jumped backwards from her.

“Where's my wand, Harry?” She asked.

“I don't know!” Harry said, walking away from her, “I don't have it!”

“Why would he have your wand?” Ron asked.

Hermione ignored him and turned to Lydia, holding out her hand. Lydia shook her head, hiding her wand behind her back.

“Give me your wand!” Hermione said.

“No!” Lydia said.

“Lydia Lily Potter, you give me your wand right now!”

There was nothing scarier than Hermione using her full name, but she refused to back down.

“I-I’m sorry!” Ron said, saving Lydia from the wrath of Hermione, “I wanted to come back as soon as I left! I did! I've had a right hard time, I have! When I Disapparated away, I Apparated straight into a group of Snatchers-”

“Snatchers?” Lydia asked.

“They're a group of people who round up all the Muggle-borns. When I ran into them, they thought I might look like school-age and thought I was a Muggle-born in hiding. I told them I was Stan Shunpike, he was the first person I thought of, anyway, whilst they were arguing I stunned one of them and got their wand. They weren't very smart though. One of them was definitely part troll,” he glanced at Hermione, as if hoping she would laugh, but she was still glaring at him, and so he carried on, “I Apparated away and then splinched myself again,” and he held his hand up, showing missing fingernails.

“Oh, you lost some fingernails?” Hermione asked in a mock sympathetic voice, “How hard must that have been for you, Ronald? It really does put our struggles into perspective doesn't it, Harry, Lydia? Why, all we’ve had to deal with it You-Know-Who’s snake trying to kill us and then the man himself turning up and missing us by minutes! But, no! Let's all worry about Ron Weasley and his fucking fingernails! What a hard time you've had Ron!”

Lydia winced. She had known Hermione long enough to know that things were starting to get dangerous when Hermione started swearing. It almost made Lydia miss Nagini.

“You-Know-Who's snake?” Ron asked, his mouth hanging open, but then his voice changed. “I've just destroyed a bloody Horcrux, you know!”

“How do you have the Sword of Gryffindor?” Hermione asked, turning on Lydia.

“It was in a pool,” Lydia said and she quickly explained what had happened.

“How did you find us?” Hermione asked.

“I've been staying in little pubs around the country, trying to shake people off my tail. Anyway, there was this one night when I was messing about with the Deluminator and then I heard Hermione,” He said, “She said- she said my name. And then this ball of light appeared, and it flew into my chest, right about here,” he pointed at his heart, “and then I knew where to go to find you. It took me ages though. I only found you because I saw Lydia,”

“W-well, you're here now,” Harry said, “and that's all that matters,”

Harry looked at Lydia and jerked his head at Hermione. Putting her wand in her bun, she walked over to Hermione and put her arms around her shoulders.

“Come on, ‘Mione,” she said, “let's go and complain about the love of your life,”

“He’s not the love of my life,” Hermione muttered.

“That's what you think,” Lydia said knowingly, “I'm really good at Divination, remember?”

Hermione laughed, “Yeah, and you're also really good at potions,”

“I don't like how sarcastic you've suddenly got,” Lydia said, “And is really important to me that you know that,”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!
> 
> I almost had Harry go and find Ron, but I feel like I've not had enough moments between Ron and Lydia so I changed it around a bit. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this. 
> 
> -E.


	26. The Rook

Lydia and Harry were more than happy to see Ron back with them. Hermione, on the other hand, still had not warmed back up to him. She often made a point of rolling her eyes whenever he spoke and only ever glared at him. Lydia had spent too much time with the both of them to know that this wouldn't last long. If they could get over the Crookshanks-Scabbers argument in third year, they could get through anything.

Harry was particularly happy about the fact that he finally had a wand of his own, however much he hated it. It was a wand made of blackthorn that Ron had stolen from one of the Snatchers. He still couldn't produce very powerful pelts, but it was better than them having to share wands.

Ron, who was still feeling guilty about leaving them, was going over everywhere the other Horcruxes were, as though to make up for everything that he had said. Lydia didn't mind though, she had soon forgotten everything that he had said and was just glad he was on their side again.

“Let's go over everything again...Albania, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade...,” Ron repeated, “So, we got the locket and the diary and Dumbledore destroyed the ring..so what's left?”

“The Hufflepuff cup, something of Ravenclaws and something of Gryffindors. I think he wanted something off each founder,” Harry said, “But I don't know what,”

Lydia frowned, “That's only six...so there's still another one?” She paused for a moment,“Hey, you don't think that the Sorting Hat is a Horcrux do you? It did belong to Godric Gryffindor,”

“Don't be ridiculous, Lydia,” Hermione sighed, “He can't make the sorting hat a Horcrux,”

“I feel like he can probably do what he wants,” Harry said. He glanced at Lydia, “That is a stupid idea though. We probably would have noticed if the Sorting Hat was a Horcrux,”

“Just trying to be helpful...” She muttered, “What about the Sword?”

“Can a Horcrux destroy a Horcrux?” Ron asked, looking over at Hermione.

She took a few moments to glare at him before she shrugged, “I don't know. If it is a Horcrux, I truly do not know how we’ll destroy it,”

“What about the Killing Curse?” Lydia asked, “you can't survive that,”

“You did,” Ron pointed out.

“You know what I mean...”

They seemed to have been having variations of this conversation for days. Lydia was starting to get slightly bored of it, but she forced herself to be included in it. She had never quite appreciated how big the world actually was until they stared hunting for Horcruxes. They had exhausted most sensible places to go and look for Horcruxes and were now being faced with the terrifying prospect of possibly having to return to Hogwarts. To Lydia, it made sense that Voldemort would have left a Horcrux there. He viewed Hogwarts in the same way that Lydia and Harry did: home.

“It's just too dangerous,” Hermione said, “Snape is Headmaster now and I can't even begin to imagine how many Death Eaters are there now. If by some miracle we get in, I can guarantee that there is no way we could ever get out,”

“Then we get help from the inside!” Harry said eagerly, “You can't say that McGonagall or Flitwick wouldn't help us! You can do those Patronus messages, can't you?”

“I practiced before we left but that's not the point,” Hermione said, “it would probably get intercepted and then put everyone in danger!”

Lydia sighed. She hated how right Hermione was all the time.

“She has a point, Harry,” Lydia said, “Anyway, if there was a Horcrux at Hogwarts, Dumbledore would have found it,”

“Not necessarily,” Harry said, “He even admitted himself that he would never dream of knowing all of Hogwarts secrets,”

“That might be true, but he knew Hogwarts better than anyone. If one was there, he would have found it - don't look at me like that, you know it's true,”

They moved again that day to outskirts of a farm that Lydia snuck into to get some eggs. She felt slightly guilty about stealing, but compensated by leaving some money. Harry told her to get over herself and was kind enough to remind her that she had done much worse than steal some eggs.

“You left money, stop worrying about it,” Ron said, happily scooping scrambled egg onto her plate, “It's either eat these great eggs or starve. What would you rather do?”

Hermione had been uncharacteristically quiet all day. Lydia was worried that she was either going to have some sort of breakdown or do that thing where she started to talk non-stop for the few days. She was sat in one of the armchairs, flicking through The Tales of Beedle the Bard, though Lydia was quite sure that she wasn't reading it at all.

“I think we should go and speak to Xenophilius Lovegood,” Hermione said loudly.

“Why?” Harry asked, “What's he got to to do with anything?”

“Don't you think it's odd how this symbol has been popping up everywhere?” Hermione asked, shoving the book into Harry's face, “Mr Lovegood wore it around his neck at the wedding, Viktor seemed to get really offended by it, it's in this book, we saw it in Godric’s Hollow and Dumbledore knew about it!”

“How do you know Dumbledore-”

Hermione grabbed another book off the floor and showed it him. It was a copy of, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. Harry made a face at it but Hermione ploughed on, looking quite frantic.

“I took this book from Bathilda Bagshot's house. He wrote letters to Gellert Grindelwald. They were friends,” Hermione explained, “And, look-” she opened the book and showed them a copy of a letter, “-look how Dumbledore signed his name,”

Gellert-

Your point about Wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES’ OWN GOOD - this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and yes, the power gives us the right to rule, but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we will build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be this basis of our counter arguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD. And from this it follows that we met resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary ad no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)

Albus.

Dumbledore had not written his name with an ‘A’, but with the triangular symbol that had been following them around. Lydia sat back in her chair, frowning at the letter. That did not at all seem like the Dumbledore she had known. That was the sort of narrative that a magical supremacist would follow. Harry looked quite shell shocked.

“He agreed with Grindelwald?” He asked.

“I don't think he completely agreed with him, Harry,” Hermione said gently, “I don't think he wanted to have complete control of Muggles,”

“That's not what it says there!” Harry said furiously, “He said that we have ‘the right to rule’. He sounds like You-Know-Who!”

“He was only seventeen-”

“I'm seventeen! You don't see me acting like that!”

“Yes, but we’re in a completely different situation than Dumbledore was when he was seventeen,” Lydia said, “If You-Know-Who had never killed our parents, we’d be completely different,”

“We wouldn't be like-”

Ron cleared his throat loudly, “We should do a vote on who whether or not we should go to see Lovegood or not,”

“I think it's a bad idea,” Lydia said.

“I don't,” Harry said, “I want to find out what this symbol is,” he was looking at Dumbledore's letter as though it had personally offended him.

“All in favour of going to Xenophilius Lovegood's house, put your hand up,” Ron said brightly. His wand went in the air even before Hermione’s, who was still glaring at Ron as she did so. Harry also put his hand up, infuriating Lydia.

“Sorry, Lyds,” Ron said, clapping her on the back, “Three to one,”

“You're only doing this to get back in Hermione's good books,” Lydia snapped.

“Cheer up. Besides, it's the Christmas holidays! Luna will be home!”

The next morning, they packed everything up and left for the Lovegoods. Ron had a vague idea of where they lived for they actually lived quite close to The Burrow and took the lead. It was strange being so close to The Burrow but not going. Lydia’s stomach tumbled at the thought of Mrs Weasley’s cooking but she carried on after Harry, Ron and Hermione, anyway. There was no point in dwelling on something that she couldn’t do. Ron seemed to determinedly not looking in the direction of his homes. Harry was probably too busy thinking about Ginny to think about much else.

“That’s gotta be it!” Ron said, panting slightly and pointing at an unusual looking house on the top of a rather steep hill, “where else would Luna have grown up?”

“You better be right, Weasley,” Lydia said, “my legs are killing,”

“It kind of looks like a rook,” Ron said, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“It looks nothing like a bird,” Hermione said.

“No, not the bird. The Chess piece...the castle- you know what, never mind,” he said, “let’s go,”

Ron got the top of the hill much quicker thanks to his ridiculously long legs. By the time Lydia made it over the top of the hill with Harry and Hermione, she was sporting a painful stitch in her side. Ron, however, was grinning at them all and rather looked like a man who had just been told he’d won the lottery.

He lead the way up to the slightly crooked house and pushed the broken gate open, on which three handwritten signs were written: “The Quibbler Editor: X. Lovegood,” - “Pick your own Mistletoe!” - “Keep off the Dirigible plums,”. The zigzagging path that lead to the front door was overgrown with a variety of odd plants, none of which Lydia have ever seen in the Herbology greenhouses at Hogwarts. At the front door of the house there was a bush covered in orange, radish-like fruit that Luna sometimes wore as earrings.

Hermione shoved Lydia and Harry forward, “It's you two, Mr Lovegood wants to help, not us,” she knocked on the door three times and then took a step back.

Barely ten seconds had passed and the door was yanked open, revealing Xenophilius Lovegood. His hair was dirty and unkempt and he was wearing a dirty nightshirt. His eyes travelled over Ron, then over Hermione and finally came to rest on Lydia and Harry. She couldn't read what expression was on his face, but she knew that it wasn't one of happiness to see them there.

“Hello, Mr Lovegood. I'm Harry, Harry Potter. This is my sister, Lydia Potter,” he said, holding out his hand.

Xenophilius did not take his hand. So Lydia took over.

“We’re sorry for turning up unannounced,” she said, “but we need to talk to you about something important. Could we please come in?”

“I...I am not sure that is advisable,” Xenophilius whispered. He cast a look around the room as though expecting someone else, “This is rather a shock to the system - you shouldn't...I'm not sure that I should...”

“It won't take long, sir,” Lydia continued, “we shouldn't be here long,” she paused for a moment, “I don't know if you know, but we’re friends with your daughter, Luna,”

“F-fine..fine, do come in, do come in,” he said, moving aside to let them in.

They were barely in the house when Xenophilius slammed the door shut behind them. Lydia looked around, a smile playing on her lips. Only Luna could live somewhere like this, and she was quite sure that Luna must have helped a lot in the decoration of the place. It was a circular room painted in overwhelmingly bright primary colours, on which birds and flowers were painted. It was what Lydia assumed the inside of Luna's brain looked like. Above them, Lydia could hear a lot of clattering and banging. What on earth could Luna be doing? Lydia could tell by the look on Ron’s face that he couldn't wait to find out. No one amused Ron quite like Luna Lovegood.

“We should go upstairs,” said Xenophilius, though he still looked very uncomfortable.

He lead them up a winding, wrought iron staircase to the top floor. Hermione tried to ask what Luna was doing, but he completely ignored her and carried on. The room above seemed to be a combination of a workspace and living room. It was completely cluttered and tiny. There were piles and piles of books on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures that Lydia had never seen, hung from the ceilings. Lydia glanced around, expecting to see Luna in the corner, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Mr Lovegood, what's that?” Hermione asked suddenly, pointing at something on the other side of the room.

Lydia looked over at whatever she was pointing at. It was an enormous, grey spiral horn, not unlike that of a unicorn.

“It is the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” said Xenophilius.

“No, it isn't!” Hermione said.

“Hermione,” muttered Harry, “Now isn't the time,”

“But Harry! That's an Erumpent horn! It's a Class B Tradeable Material and it's an extraordinarily dangerous thing to have in a house!”

“It's a what? How do you know?” Ron asked, edging away from it as far as the cluttered room would allow.

“There's a description of them in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them!” Hermione explained, “You know that it can explode at the slightest touch!”

“Ah,” Xenophilius said, “my Luna told me about you, Miss Granger...”

“Anyway,” Harry said, clearing his throat, “We need your help, Mr Lovegood,”

“Yes...well...helping Harry and Lydia Potter...that's quite dangerous these days...” He muttered, “very, very dangerous, in fact...”

“I thought you were all for us helping Harry and Lydia? That's what it says in your magazine, anyway,” Ron said.

“Where is Luna, Mr Lovegood?” Lydia asked, “Let's see what she has to say about this,”

“She is down at the stream fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. Perhaps you would like to go and find her, Miss Potter?” Xenophilius said.

“M-me?” Lydia said, “Yeah, sure.” She stood up.

“I don't think we should split up-”

“It's fine,” Lydia said, “It's only Luna,”

“The stream is behind the house. She’ll probably be at Bottom Bridge,” Xenophilius said, with the air of someone trying to end a conversation as quickly as possible.

She left the room and walked down the stairs, quite happy to get out of the house. Lydia loved Luna, but she wasn't sure she was too keen on her father. He seemed to have backtracked on all the words o support he had written on behalf of Harry and Lydia. She was also quite happy to get away from a house that contained an exploding horn. Lydia had no idea how he would have managed to come across something like an Erumpent Horn, but she was quite sure that it wasn't legal.

Lydia walked around the back of the house and walked along the edge of the stream, holding her wand tightly. She felt quite vulnerable being so out in the open, but she couldn't imagine there being many Death Eaters in Ottery St Catchpole. Then again, she never would have thought that Snape would have killed Dumbledore. Sure, he might have killed her or Harry, but never Dumbledore.

“Luna?” Lydia called, as she neared the bridge, “Are you here?”

There was no answer. Lydia supposed that Luna would be so far in her own little world that she wouldn't be able to hear her. When she got the bridge, however, and she couldn't see Luna, Lydia grew confused. Maybe she was at the wrong bridge. There was a noise overhead and Lydia looked up. Three dark cloaked figures flew overhead and Lydia felt her heart sink. Luna wasn't here at all, and Xenophilius Lovegood was more than happy to give them up to the Death Eaters.

“Oh, you absolute fucker,” she muttered.

“Hey! There's the girl! Get her!” One of the Death Eaters shouted.

“Really?” Lydia groaned as a Death Eater landed in front of her, his wand outstretched.

“Stupe-”

“Protego!” Lydia said quickly.

“They said you were more dangerous than this,” the Death Eater taunted, “said I should watch out if I ever end up duelling you,”

“Would you like me to be full on because I should warn you, if I do, there's every chance that I will win,” Lydia said, backing up as he advanced on her.

The Death Eater laughed, “That's what your Fiancé said. He said that you’ve never actually lost a duel,”

Lydia lowered her wand, “you've never met my-”

“Yes, I have,” he said, smiling slightly, “who do you think caught him? He put up quite a fight, he did. He shut up once I hit him with the Cruciatus Curse...well, not quite shut up,” he laughed again, “but there was a lot less fighting, I'll tell you that much,”

“Is he alive?” Lydia asked, “Tell me, is he alive?”

“For now,”

Before she could stop herself, Lydia had shouted, “sectumsempra!”

At once, Lydia took off running back up the stream and kicked the door open. Halfway up the stairs, there was a massive bang and Lydia almost tumbled all the way back down. Coughing as dust rose up around her, she pulled herself back up the stairs and froze as she ran into the other two Death Eaters. They had their back up to her and had no idea she was there. Having no idea what to do, Lydia crept back down the stairs and to the bottom floor. Harry, Ron and Hermione wouldn't leave without her, but they also might not have any choice.

She ran back out into the front garden and looked up at the house. The top of it had been half destroyed. Lydia jumped out of the way as some debris almost fell on top of her. She couldn't see Harry, Ron or Hermione. What if they had been killed in the blast?

“Harry?” She yelled, “Ron? Hermione?”

There was a crack and Lydia jumped as Hermione appeared next to her with Harry and Ron. They looked unhurt, though thoroughly pissed off.

“What happened?” Lydia demanded.

“Not now,” Harry said, grabbing her hand, “Hermione, go.”

Lydia's feet thudded to the ground and her knees almost gave way. Harry grabbed her tighter.

“Are you OK?” He asked, “What happened?”

“I went to find Luna, but she obviously wasn't there, and then those Death Eaters came. There was a third one and...and...and...” she took a deep shuddering breath, “and..he mentioned George,” she burst into tears.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, “Is he...is he...”

“He said he was alive...” Lydia whispered, “for now,”

Ron put his hand on her back. “We’ll find him, Lydia, I promise,”

It took her a few moments to pull herself together but she finally took a step back from Harry and nodded, wiping her eyes. “Yeah. We’ll find him,”

“What happened whilst I was gone?” Lydia asked.

Hermione put the tent up with a flick of her wand, “the sign is the sign of the Deathly Hallows,”

“The Deathly what now?”

“There's a story in The Tales of Beedle the Bard,” Hermione said, “Called the Tale of the Three Brothers. It's a fairytale about death. According to the Beedle the Bard, Death approached three brothers and gave them whatever they wanted. One brother wanted something to bring back the dead, and so Death gave him the resurrection stone, which brought people back to life. The other brother wanted a wand more powerful than any other, and the third wanted a Cloak of Invisibility which would allow him to avoid Death for the rest of his life. Those three things together are called the Death Hallows. Whoever owns them all, would be the Master of Death, and could never die,”

“Oh,” Lydia said, “So loads of rubbish,”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, “No! It's not loads of rubbish!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “We should be looking for Horcruxes, Harry, not Hallows-”

“But that's not what he's looking for!” Harry protested, “You-Know-Who wants the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility! That way, he's the Master of Death!”

“He's already the Master of Death with the Horcruxes,” Ron pointed out, “He can't die unless-”

“Dumbledore wanted me to find them so that I could defeat him,” Harry said quietly, “If we have the Elder Wand-”

“-that doesn't exist-” Hermione interjected.

“-there's not way we wouldn't be able to defeat him!” Harry said.

“They don't exist, Harry,” Hermione said impatiently, “Horcruxes, not Hallows, remember?”

“You say they don't exist, but the Chamber of Secrets was meant to be a myth, wasn't it?” Ron said thoughtful.

“The Chamber of Secrets doesn't make someone the Master of Death though, Ron. No one can be the Master of Death. It's impossible. Death comes for us all whether we like it or not!” Hermione snapped.

“What a lovely thought,”

“But, Hermione, don't you see? It's so important that we look for them! That's how we defeat Vol-”

“HARRY NO!” Ron yelled.

“-demort-”

“Snatchers are gonna come for us!” Ron said, jumping up, “Oh - no...we didn't...we didn't put the enchantments up! We need to do something-”

“Whoever's in there, come out! You got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't really care who we curse, do we lads?” A voice yelled.

“This is a bad day,” Lydia muttered, “This is a terrible day - hey! What are you doing?” Hermione had grabbed her hand and was pulling her towards the mouth of the tent.

“The moment we got out of here, we run. All right?” Hermione said fiercely, “And we stay together,”

No one argued.

“OK,” Hermione said, “Three...two...one...GO!”

They burst out of the tent and took off running. Hermione close behind her. Curses and jinxes flew over their heads, cracking against the trees. A branch off an old tree fell to the ground with a loud thump, separating Lydia and Hermione from Ron and Harry.

“STUPEFY!” Lydia yelled.

The jet of red light hit the Snatcher closest to her in the chest and he fell backwards. Lydia waved her wand and the other one quickly went down. Hermione turned to her, her eyes wild and shoved her in the chest, pushing her away from her.

“Find us!” Hermione screamed and then she ran away.

“‘Mione! Wait!”

Lydia’s foot caught on a protruding tree root and she toppled backwards. The ground suddenly sloped and she tumbled backwards, finally coming to a rest at the base of an ancient looking tree, the wind knocked out of her. She lay there for a few seconds, trying to remember how to breathe. Her surroundings were eerily quiet and she had no idea where the others were.

Limping slightly, Lydia snatched her wand of the ground and clambered back up the slope. She gasped and ducked down just as two Snatchers walked past her. They froze for a moment and looked around. The sounds of leaves crunching under boots told her that she was once again alone.

Then the panic set in. She slid back down the slope, and for a moment, she sat cross legged on the floor, holding nothing but her bag and her wand and wondering what on earth she was going to do. She had never tackled anything alone before. Harry, Ron and Hermione had always been by her side through everything and now they were gone. Her mind jumped to the worst conclusion and he quickly shut it down. They would get out of this. She would get them out of this.

Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter more than I thought I would. 
> 
> I'm really excited for you to read the next chapter, I've had it written for ages! 
> 
> Thank-you for the all the kudos, it really means a lot! 
> 
> -E.


	27. Taking a Stand

Lydia turned on the spot and Apparated to the first place she thought of: Privet Drive. She wasn't entirely sure what she thought that Privet Drive would be the place for her to go, but she needed to feel like she was doing something. Trying to look as natural as possible, Lydia turned on her heel and started to walk to Number four, but then she remembered what Mad-Eye had said about all the regulations that had been put on the house and turned back around.

There was always Mrs Figg, but what good could a Squib do against Snatchers? Keeping her head down so not to alert the neighbours, Lydia hurried down the street, trying to think of everywhere that she could go. There was always Remus, but at this point, Tonks was probably just weeks away from giving birth and Lydia couldn't bring herself to tear a family apart. She could go to The Burrow, but she didn’t want to put anymore Weasleys in danger.

Without realising it, Lydia had somehow walked all the way to the fields behind Privet Drive. She and Harry used to walk along these fields for hours in a desperate attempt to get away from Uncle Vernon and his bad moods. Then it hit her. She didn't understand how it had taken her this long to to think of it, Harry had been going on about it for ages. And desperate times call for desperate measures.

She pulled the mirror out of her bag and, not caring how crazy she probably looked, she yelled into it.

“Help me! Help me! I'm in the fields behind Privet Drive! Help me!” a blue eye flashed in the mirror and then disappeared, “wait! Did you hear me? The others have been-”

“Have you finally cracked, Potter?” A familiar voice drawled, “Why are you talking into a mirror?”

Lydia’s head snapped up and the tip of her wand found Draco Malfoy's face. He looked quite bored.

“Stupe-”

“Wait!” He said so forcefully that she actually did, “I want to help you,”

“You want to...what?” Lydia asked, finally lowering her wand.

“I want to help you,” he repeated, “I- I know I've been a bit of a prat in the past and I want to put it all behind me. I don't agree with anything my family say. I want to help you,”

“And I can trust you because?”

“Because George does,” Malfoy said. He reached into his pocket and took something out of it. It took Lydia a moment to realise that it was Fabio. She rushed forward and took him in her hands. When he realised it was her, Fabio squeaked happily and curled up in her hands, “When he was brought in, he had Fabio in his pocket and he gave him to me-”

“He’s alive?” Lydia asked hurriedly, “George? He's alive?”

“Yes, and so is Harry, Granger and Weasley. They're at Malfoy Manor but if you don't hurry up-”

There was a loud crack and Lydia jumped again. She looked around, expecting to see Bellatrix, or even Voldemort, but her eyes only fell upon Dobby the House-Elf. He was wearing two mismatched socks and a Weasley jumper that was so long that it looked more like a dress than a jumper. He looked from Lydia to Malfoy and then back to Lydia, a confused look on his face.

“Lydia Potter! Mister Malfoy is a bad wizard! Is he bothering you? If he is, I can hurt him for you!” Dobby said, walking towards him.

“No!” Lydia said quickly, “No, Dobby, he's on our side-”

“Dobby doesn't like to insult Miss Potter, but Dobby thinks that she might have lost her mind,” he said, wringing his hands together, “The Malfoy's are bad wizards-”

“Dobby, listen to me,” Lydia said quickly, “Harry, Ron, Hermione and George are at Malfoy Manor and I need to get to them, regardless of who I have to work with,”

“I understand, Miss Potter!” Dobby cried.

“They're in the basement,” Draco said quickly, “Mr Ollivander, Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas are also there. I only have George’s, Weasley’s and Harry's wand,”

Dobby nodded at him, took the wands and then disappeared with a loud crack. Draco turned to Lydia, holding out his hand. She scowled at him.

“I'm not holding your hand,”

“Potter-”

“You know you broke Harry's heart?” Lydia said, grabbing his wrist.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Remember when I punched you in third year?” Lydia said.

“Vividly,”

“I can punch even harder now,”

“Lovely,” he muttered.

They Apparated to outside a house that was so big, Lydia was sure that he had gone to the wrong place. It looked like a house from a Victorian painting. Draco tried to pull Lydia towards the house, but she was too busy staring up at it in shock to even think about moving. She had known that the Malfoy’s were rich, but she didn't think they were this rich.

“You live here?” Lydia asked

“Yes, Potter,” Draco said through gritted teeth, trying to yank on her arm, “Now come on!”

“Sorry!” she said, “it's just some of us grew up in a cupboard under the stairs and some of us grew up in a fucking castle!”

He tutted and dragged her through the gates and up the driveway, on which massive peacocks were strolling up and down.

“Peacocks?” Lydia gasped, “You have peacocks?”

“Give me your wand,” he said as they reached the front door.

“I'm obviously not going-”

“I’ll give it to you at the right moment,” he said.

“I'm not going to give up my wand!”

“Lydia, please,”

Her glare softened and she handed her wand over, “I’m not lying about punching you in the face,”

“I know,”

Horrific screams cut through Lydia like a knife and she knew who it was at once. Lydia took off down the corridor, not caring about how noise she was making. Draco launched himself at her and grabbed her around the middle, pulling her back.

“Don't be an idiot,” he said.

He dragged her kicking and struggling into the drawing room. Fenrir Greyback was stood closest to her and her first instinct was to try and kick him, but then she saw Bellatrix stood over a sobbing Hermione, her wand aimed at her chest. Lydia screamed and tried to get to her, but Draco hauled her backwards again and she fell into the wall, hitting her head.

“You found her!” Lucius Malfoy exclaimed, walking towards him, “Well done, son,”

“Yes, well, it wasn't too hard,” Draco replied smoothly,”There's been a lot of threats of violence,”

“Her father was the same,” Lucius said flippantly.

“You don't know a thing about my father!” Lydia spat.

“And you do?” Lucius asked softly, “You only knew him two years, and you spend the last year of his life arguing with him constantly,”

Disregarding the fact that she didn't have a wand and Lucius Malfoy was probably a foot taller than her, Lydia bounded towards him and rugby tackled him to the floor. Even Bellatrix stopped what she was doing to watch and Hermione screamed, “DON’T!” just as Lydia drew her fist back to punch him in the face.

“Finished?” Draco asked, his hand closing around her wrist and dragging her up.

“I haven't decided yet,” Lydia muttered, watching as Lucius struggled to get off the floor.

“If the Mudblood won't tell me where she got the sword then maybe Potter will,” Bellatrix said, slowly walking towards her, her wand outstretched.

“I - no,” Lydia said, eyeing Bellatrix's wand, “No. I don't know,”

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at he, “What do you mean you don't know?”

“Generally when people don't know the answer to a question, they say-”

“Crucio!”

Lydia screamed as every bone in her body was set on fire. She collapsed backwards into Malfoy who seemed to have suddenly frozen. Lydia had no idea what amazing plan he had come up with, but he needed to hurry up.

“Let's try again shall we- oh, no...actually...” Bellatrix cackled and forcefully grabbed Lydia’s hand, holding it up for everyone to see, “Draco did mention your engagement...”

“It's actually a to-be-engaged sort of situation,” Lydia said, breathing heavily, “It made more sense than just going straight in with the actual engagement,”

“Greyback, go and get the Weasley twin. Let's see how fast she answers then...”

“N-no!” Lydia gasped, “Not George! He has nothing to do with this!”

“Even better,” Bellatrix smiled.

Minutes later, Greyback reappeared dragging George behind him. Lydia's heart dropped to her stomach as her eyes fell on him; there was dried blood around his nose and there was a bruise forming on his jaw. Blood poured out of a large gash on his forehead and Lydia suddenly wanted to kill every single person in the room.

“Lydia!” He said, “what are you- why are you-”

Greyback shoved him into the middle of the room and he fell to the floor. Lydia yelled and tried to get to him, but Draco shoved her back against the wall, shaking his head. Lydia couldn't really give a damn about Draco Malfoy or his plan anymore, the only thing she cared about was getting back to George.

“Now, Potter, tell me - how did you get the Sword of Gryffindor?” Bellatrix asked, her wand aimed at George.

“I - I...n-no, you c-can't! S-stop!” Lydia said, “he’s had nothing t-to do with this!”

“Crucio!”

A sound that Lydia had never wanted to hear come out of George’s mouth rang around the room. The sound mixed with Bellatrix’s laughter and Malfoy whispering, “wait, not yet, not yet,” in her ear over and over again. Lydia looked over Malfoy’s shoulder and her eyes found Hermione’s, who was now stood in the corner of the room. Hermione shook her head once and Lydia knew that she had to play this probably.

“Potter,” Bellatrix repeated, “Did you break into my vault at Gringotts and steal the Sword?

“You can't break into Gringotts,” Lydia said, “We wouldn't be here if we tried,”

“You already asked Griphook if it was the real sword, didn't you?” Draco asked, “And the one they had isn't the real one,”

Bellatrix turned to look at her Nephew and, for a moment, Lydia thought she was going to turn her wand on him.

“Did you go into my vault at Gringotts at any point?” Bellatrix shrieked.

“No!” Lydia yelled, “We didn't-”

“Crucio!”

Lydia's screams mingled with George’s and she tried to get to him but Draco held her back. He was whispering something in her ear but she couldn't hear a thing. The basement door suddenly flung open and Ron and Harry bust out. They both had wands and Lydia thought that Dobby probably had something to do with that. Harry took one look at Lydia and Draco and she knew that his first instinct would be to try and curse him.

“Harry, don't-” she began but he wasn't listening.

“Expelliarmus!”

Draco's wand flew through the air and Harry caught it. Behind her, Malfoy groaned. Ron ran across the room and grabbed George, pulling him up and pushing him behind him and Harry. And not for the first time, Lydia wished that she and Harry were telepathic because he looked like he was getting ready to start a duel. Lydia locked eyes with him and shook her head. He frowned at her and tilted his head to the side as though to say, “are you trying to get killed or what?”

There was a scuffle, a bang and a yell, and then Bellatrix somehow had ahold of George again.

“Wands down!” Bellatrix yelled, “Wands down or I kill him!”

“Listen to her,” Harry snapped, “That means you too, Ron,”

There was a clatter as Harry and Ron dropped their wands to the floor. Behind her, she felt Draco put something in the back pocket of her jeans, and she knew that it was her wand.

“When I say go, go,” he whispered in her ear.

Lydia nodded slightly.

“One...two...three...NOW!”

Lydia dived forward, “Depulso!”

Bellatrix was caught off guard and fell backwards. Lydia spun around as two Snatchers walked towards her, their wands raised. “Expelliarmus!” Lydia yelled. She caught one of the wands and threw it behind her. Hermione caught it and jumped up, running over to where Harry and Ron were. Lydia ran towards George and pulled him up, shoving him towards the others. Harry disarmed another Snatcher just as he turned his wand on Lydia.

“Draco?” Lydia yelled, looking around.

He ran over to her, “Here!” He sent a curse towards his father, “Oh, no - GRANGER, LOOK OUT!”

Hermione spun around just as Bellatrix pulled herself off the ground and advanced on her.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione said, catching her wand.

“Draco,” Narcissa said calmly, walking towards her son, “Draco, what are you doing?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he said, “I stand with the Children who Lived,”

“Why, you little-” a peculiar squeaking noise cut Bellatrix off. Lydia looked around, trying to find the source of the sound.

“Dobby, you might want to try turning it the other way,” Draco called to Dobby, who was sat on the chandelier and determinedly trying to unscrew it.

“Ah,” Dobby said, “Thank-you, Mister Malfoy!”

There was an almighty crash and Harry grabbed Lydia and pulled her out of the way of the Chandelier. Half-laughing, she pulled herself up and they all joined hands. Bellatrix was the first to pull herself out of the wreckage of the Chandelier.

“ELF! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME!” She shrieked, “WE ARE YOU MASTERS-”

“Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf!”

A knife flew through the air towards them as Dobby Apparated away. The smell of the sea forced Lydia’s eyes opened and she looked around as the wind whipped her hair. George collapsed sideways into her and she struggled under his weight.

“Georgie, we’re okay,” Lydia said, “hey, look at me...look at me. We’re okay,”

He nodded, tears streaming down his face. “I know. We’re okay, we’re okay,”

“Dobby!” Harry yelled, “Dobby! No, no...”

Lydia looked around. Harry was knelt on the floor, Dobby in his arms. The elf’s breathing was funny and there was a blood stain steadily spreading over his jumper, a knife protruding from it. Lydia rushed towards them and dropped to her knees next to Harry.

“D-Dobby,” she said, “J-just hold on,”

“Such a beautiful place to be with friends...” He said, “D-Dobby is glad he is friends with Harry and Lydia Potter,”

He took one last shuddering breath, and became still.

“This is your fault,” Ron said from behind her.

“Ron, not-” she began, but then she realised that he wasn't speaking to her, but to Draco.

“And I don't know what you're doing here, but you can fuck off!” He snapped, “You've had my brother locked in a basement for weeks and now you're acting as though you're our best pal!”

“Ron,” Hermione said quietly, “Not now,”

“He's the reason we’re not dead,” Lydia said, “He helped me-”

“Stup-”

George stepped in between them, “Protego!”

Ron turned to glare at his brother, “He tortured you!”

“No, he didn't!” George said, “He looked after me when I was there. And then he looked after Luna and Ollivander when they came. He's not his family,”

“I should just leave-” Draco said.

“Stay,” Lydia said, “You're in as much danger as us now, Draco,”

“I don't trust him,” Ron said to Lydia.

“And I don't expect you to,” Lydia said, “but, please, Ron, he just turned his back on his family for us. He’s as much of a blood traitor as you are now,”

Footsteps behind Lydia caused her to tear her eyes away from Ron. Bill and Fleur were hurting over to them. A small cottage stood behind them and Lydia remembered Fleur talking about buying a cottage at the wedding. She supposed that this was where they lived. Bill put his arm around George and lead him up to the house, whilst Fleur gently took Hermione's hand. Ron shot an evil look in Draco’s direction and then followed the others up to the cottage. Harry was still knelt on the ground holding Dobby.

“I want to bury him,” Harry said.

“OK,” Lydia said, “We can go and-”

“But I want to do it properly. Without magic,”

Lydia nodded, “Of course. I’m sure Bill will have a shovel or something,”

Harry stood up and looked at Draco. It was a tense moment. Draco moved forward as though he was going to hug him, but quickly stopped himself and took a step back. Harry turned his back on him and looked at Lydia

“Are you OK?” He asked.

“Fine,”

“She tortured you,”

Lydia shrugged, “All in a day's work, isn't it?”

He smiled at her and walked up to the cottage without looking back. Draco slowly walked over to her, and Lydia was shocked to see that he was crying.

“I should give up on him,”

“Never give up on love, Draco. It's the worst thing someone could do,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, just giving Draco the redemption arc he always deserved in the books. 
> 
> Hope you're still enjoying this and thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E.


	28. Shell Cottage

Lydia stood with her head hung as Harry finished burying Dobby. George stood on the other side of her, his arm around her shoulder. Though this was more to keep himself stood up. He was still very weak from Malfoy Manor and Fleur kept on shooting him anxious looks, though he was going out of his way to prove to everyone that he was OK. Hermione was stood with Ron, and looked just as weak as George. She was wrapped in one of Fleur's dressing gowns, her head resting on Ron’s shoulder.

Dean, Luna and Bill were stood just behind the grave. Lydia couldn't work out why Bill was looking at her with narrowed eyes, and then she realised that it was because Draco was stood behind her. He had warmed to him a lot better than Ron had, who still didn't trust him, though she supposed that everything that Lucius Malfoy had said about his family was still fresh in his mind.

Lydia read the inscription on the headstone over and over again, “Here lies Dobby, a free elf,”. Guilt gnawed away at her heart. If she hadn't have asked for help, then Dobby probably wouldn't have had to die. Though, she couldn't quite work out how on earth Dobby had found her in the first place. The eye in the mirror didn't make sense to her. Harry had been right, the eye looked ridiculously like Dumbledore’s, but, as she reminded herself over and over again, Dumbledore was dead. As Harry had pointed out to her, it had been Dumbledore who said, “to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure,”. Maybe he had been really organised before his death and had known that he would have to leave something behind to help her and Harry.

“Can I have a moment?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Bill said, “Come on you lot, I'm starving,”

“I’ll be in in a minute,” Lydia said to George quietly, “I want to talk to Harry,”

“Alright,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. He turned around and beamed at Draco, “Come on, blondie, I'm going to show you how disgustingly rare my almost-werewolf brother has his steak,”

Lydia laughed and slowly walked over to Harry, gently putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, tears in his eyes.

“You OK?” She asked.

“I don't know,” he admitted, “I...I didn't expect to see him so soon,”

“You don't need to declare your undying love for him,” Lydia said carefully.

Harry snorted, “that wasn't actually part of the plan,”

“Oh,” Lydia said, “I just assumed that it was,”

“It's weird because...because the Draco that's here is the Draco I know, you know? Like, him being nice and doing the right thing is the Draco I like,” Harry said, “And yet, whenever I look at him, all I can think about is Dumbledore,” he shook his head and wiped his eyes, “not that it matters. We need to worry about Horcruxes and breaking into Gringotts,”

“Completely agree with the first part but not quite sure about the last part, mate,”

“We need to break into Gringotts,”

“Repeating something doesn't make it sound more sane,”

“Into Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault,”

“Harry, what the fuck,”

“Hear me out,” he said, “Bellatrix questioned both you and Hermione about her vault, didn't she? It's because You-Know-Who put a Horcrux in there. He won't have told her what it was exactly, but he probably said that it was very important and that's why she was so worried about it,”

Lydia hated how much of a good point he had made. And, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense as to why Voldemort would probably plant a Horcrux in Gringotts. There was no way anyone but the owner of the vault would be able to access anything inside it. Hagrid had told them that anyone would be made to try and break into Gringotts.

“Can breaking into Gringotts be a tomorrow problem?” Lydia asked.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, “I want to talk to Griphook tomorrow. And Mr Ollivander,”

“Quick question-”

“No, you don't have to be there. You can relax for a day,”

That night, Lydia struggled to sleep. She was sleeping downstairs in the cramped living room of Shell Cottage. Dean and Luna were sleeping on the couches, whilst Harry, Ron and Draco were asleep on the floor. Lydia didn't miss how Harry and Ron were lay as far away from Draco as possible. Lydia was sure that Draco was still awake. He was breathing too heavily to be asleep. George couldn't sleep, either. Lydia with her back against the couch, whilst George was sat facing her, their knees not quite touching. Fabio was curled up on Lydia’s shoulder, snoring slightly. If she closed her eyes, it was easy to pretend that she was back in the Slytherin Common Room. Back when she was there, things weren't too bad. George still had both ears and had never been tortured, Harry and Draco were making each other happy, Ron was doing well on the Gryffindor team and Hermione was happily stressed out thinking about her NEWTs. Dean and Luna should never have been caught up in any of this, and she felt even more guilty knowing that they were both separated from her families.

Lydia turned to look at George, his eyes were closed but Lydia knew that he wasn't asleep. Bill had sent a message to Mrs Weasley to tell them that George was alive and would be back home soon, but Lydia still couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. She knew that none of the Weasley’s would blame her for this, but she couldn't help but blame herself for it.

“I'm sorry,” Lydia said.

“I knew you would do this,” George replied, opening his eyes and looking at her.

“Do what?”

“Blame yourself for everything that happened at Malfoy Manor,” he said, “I already told you that I didn't care if he came for me-”

“But I care,” she said, “Merlin, George, they tortured you!”

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to sit next to him. “I know,” he said softly, “I know,” tears sprung to his eyes again, “Lydia, I-I can't get it out of my head. I swear I can still feel it,”

Lydia wiped his eyes with the sleeve of her jumper, “It gets better after a few days,”

“You shouldn't know that,”

“You shouldn't need me to tell you that,” she whispered, “I thought you were going to die,”

He shook his head, “I knew I wasn't. I always knew you'd come. Just like the Black Lake in the Triwizard Tournament,”

Lydia smiled and dropped her head onto his shoulder, “You asked me out after that,”

“And now we're almost engaged,” he picked up her hand and admired the ring, “that's the only thing that kept me sane,”

“It's only thing that's kept me sane,” she said, “that and mentally planning it. You wearing blue, by the way. It goes great with red hair. But I think Fred should wear a different colour. Maybe green,”

“Do me or Fred have a say in this?” George asked.

“Obviously not,” Lydia said, “And I think Hermione should wear yellow. It really suits her. In fact, I think Harry, Ron and Fred should wear green,”

“You've been hunting the Dark Lord whilst planning a wedding that might never happen?”

“You know how good I am at multitasking,”

They were both aware that there was a much bigger chance of them dying before the wedding, then there was them ever getting married, but it was better to act like it was promised. When Lydia finally began to drift off to sleep as the sun was rising, her dreams were the most pleasant that they had been in weeks.

The next morning, when Harry, Ron and Hermione were questioning Ollivander and Griphook, Lydia found Draco sat in the back garden. Dean and Luna were sat a little way away from him, talking to Fleur who had taken an immediate liking to Luna. It was a friendship that Lydia never thought she would witness flourish, but she really didn't hate it.

Draco looked odd wearing a pair of Bill’s old robes. They weren't the kind a Malfoy would wear. Lydia thought he looked much better for it. She hesitantly walked over to him, followed by George and sat next to him. He looked up when he saw them but didn't say anything. There were deep bags underneath his bloodshot eyes, though Lydia couldn't tell if that was because he hadn't slept or because he had been crying. She supposed that it could have been both.

“I just want to say thank-you,” George said, “for being so nice to me back..back there,”

Draco didn't say anything.

“I know it would have been easier for you to just go long with what they were telling you to do, but you didn't. And-and that means a lot,”

A long silence followed this and then:

“Do you think it's too late?” Draco asked, “to go back on everything?”

“No,” Lydia said, “you risked your lives for us,”

“You're not actually as bad as I thought,” George said, “in a different world, we might have been good friends,”

“Yeah, and I've always said that you and Fred should have been in Slytherin,” Lydia said.

George looked deeply offended, “That's rude,”

“I was in Slytherin,”

“That's not the point-”

“I called Granger all those horrible things. I laughed at Weasley and his family. I was a terrible housemate to you-” Draco continued, obviously not hearing anything that was being said.

“-I was a terrible housemate to everyone, remember how much I cursed Urquhart?”

“-I was horrible to Har - Potter. I was a Death Eater. I nearly killed Dumbledore...”

“Because you didn't have a choice,” Lydia said, “And you weren't always horrible to Harry,”

They exchanged looks and then burst into laughter. George gave them funny looks but didn't say anything. It was then that Lydia realised that Harry had never come out to the full Weasley family and kept her mouth shut.

“Maybe not,” Malfoy said, “but I did make you have a panic attack last year,”

“Yeah, well, you know me and broom cupboards,” she said.

“Why were you in a broom cupboard with him? You wouldn't even go in a broom cupboard with me,” George said.

Draco sighed and put his head in his hands, “I suppose I can tell you this but I had a crush on Harry and kept on badgering Lydia about it. There was a broom cupboard involved at one point and it went terribly,”

George nodded, “Yeah, I know you did. Had a crush on Harry, I mean,”

“You did?”

“Most of us did,” George said, “with the exception of Harry, probably. And after that poem...”

“You know about that?” Draco asked, turning red.

“Yeah...I asked Ginny if she wrote it and she said no and then a couple years later I heard Zabini tease you about it,” George shrugged.

Lydia frowned at the two of them.

“Poem? What poem? Oh Merlin...”his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad?”” Lydia asked, trying to bite back laughter.

“I was twelve...”

Lydia couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. Dean, Luna and Fleur gave them funny looks. Draco was shaking his head over and over again.

“Don't tell him,” Draco moaned.

“I would never. I owe you,” George said clapping him on the back, “but I will most likely hold it over your head for the rest of your life,”

Bill walked over to them, “Georgie, can you help me with this food? There's a lot more people than usual,”

“I'll be right there!” He shouted to his brother. He turned back round to Draco and Lydia, “I'm going to play the torture card like you wouldn't believe,”

“Draco, can I speak to you?”

Lydia turned around to find Harry stood behind them, looking quite awkward. Draco raised his eyebrows and then nodded and stood up, but Lydia waved him down.

“It's fine. You’s stay here, I'm going to stop George from guilt-tripping Bill,” Lydia said.

In the kitchen, Lydia found Bill, George, Hermione and Ron looking quite serious. She froze on the threshold, unsure as to whether or not this conversation she was meant to be intruding on. Ron was looking at the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose and Hermione looked quite shell shocked. Lydia wondered if anything had happened with Griphook or Ollivander upstairs and was about to ask when Bill turned around and saw her.

“Did you know about this?” He asked.

“Know about what?”

“Harry and Malfoy!” Ron said, sounding quite disgusted.

“Um-”

“He just told us,” Hermione said, “about everything that happened last year,”

“Oh,” Lydia said, “yeah, I did know,”

“Since when?” Ron asked.

“The tie incident,”

He looked betrayed, “You said it was a Ravenclaw tie!”

“Yes, Ronald, but it was a lie!” Lydia said, rolling her eyes, “I didn't think any of you would take it well,”

“We haven't,” George said weakly. “The bisexual thing is fine,” he added hastily when he saw the look on Lydia’s face, “no, that isn't the problem...Malfoy is the problem,”

“You're the one who defended him to Ron!” Lydia snapped.

“I know, but...but...a relationship is completely different! He might not be a dickhead anymore but he wasn't great in school was he?”

“Oh, yeah, and you and Fred were always a delight to be around, weren't you?” Lydia scathingly, “I always really appreciated you trying to mess with the Slytherins constantly!”

“Lydia, I think he just meant the blood supremacist-” Bill began.

“Me and Fred weren't bullies!” George snapped.

“You used to plant Dungbombs in classes that you knew Slytherins were in next! In classes that I was in next!” Lydia yelled, “Honestly, none of you have any idea how shit it is to be a Slytherin at Hogwarts! So, good for Harry for putting his prejudices aside!”

“Lydia, you're being ridiculous! We put our prejudices aside, didn't we? Or you wouldn't be here!” Ron said impatiently.

“I'd like to point out that we’re actually engaged,” George muttered.

“If I wasn't a Potter, you never would have. If I didn't sit at the Gryffindor table, you never would have,” Lydia said, “Do you know how lonely it is, being in Slytherin? The entire castle hates you just because you wear a green tie! It's not wonder Draco was so horrible to all of us when we were just as horrible to him!”

“If you weren’t a Potter, you wouldn’t be you,” Hermione said gently.

“Yeah, and then I’d just be another Slytherin that you all hated,” Lydia said.

“Lydia, I know that you support Harry through everything but don’t you think that this is...strange?” Hermione asked quietly, “I mean, think of everything he called me, everything he called you!”

“Me and Harry only have each other,” Lydia said bluntly, “we have bigger problems than who Harry spent his sixth year snogging,”

George rolled his eyes and turned to the kettle, forcefully prodding it with his wand. Feeling like she had made a good point, Lydia turned and walked back out into the garden. Fleur walked over to her and placed her hand on her arm.

“Ees everything OK?” Fleur asked her, “you look stressed,”

“I’m always stressed, Fleur,” Lydia sighed.

Fleur smiled at her, “You expect too much of yourself,”

“Yeah, probably,”

Lydia looked over at Harry and Draco. They were sat on the bench, sitting as far away from each other as possible. They weren’t looking at each other; Draco was staring at his knees and Harry was staring ahead of him. She didn't go over to them and instead went to sit with Dean and Luna who were still talking animatedly. Lydia plastered a smile onto her face and joined in in discussing a particularly funny Dumbledore’s Army lesson. It was the lesson when Neville accidentally stunned three members of the Weasley family, rendering them unconscious, instead of Harry. Almost two years later, they still weren’t quite sure how he had managed to achieve it.

“We were trying to keep Dumbledore’s Army up, you know,” Luna said, “after Snape, but I don’t know if everyone else is still keeping it up. It was very hard...”

Lydia lost track of the conversation after that, just nodding along with whatever they were saying. She bit down on her lip and looked back over to the cottage. Hermione, Ron, Bill and George were still stood in the kitchen. Lydia clenched her jaw and turned back to Dean and Luna. On reflection, Lydia felt as though she might have overreacted. They had all made good points...Draco had been a Death Eater for almost a year, and now she was expecting everyone to trust him. Even though she still wasn’t sure that she trusted him completely. He did turn his back on his entire family, though. But that could all be apart of You-Know-Who’s plan to get to them. He could just touch his Dark Mark at any moment...

That evening, Lydia feigned illness and went to bed early, curling up in a sleeping bag on the living room floor and stared up at the ceiling. She had no idea why she couldn’t bring herself to apologise to the others, maybe it was because she was so stubborn or maybe it was because the Horcrux was still somehow affecting her. Which was unlikely, surely? They had destroyed it and it’s mangled remains lay at the bottom of Hermione’s beaded bag.

Yeah, it had nothing to do with the Horcrux, she was just a terrible person.

—-

Harry sidled up to her the next evening as she was chopping up vegetables for dinner quite violently. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Are you-are you and George fighting?” He asked quietly.

“Oh, it’s nothing he’s just a dickhead,” she snapped. “Sorry,” she added, looking up at him, “I don’t know why I’m getting pissy with you,”

“Is it because you were defending me and Draco?” Harry said, “because you don’t have to fight on behalf all the time,”

Lydia smiled slightly, “I don’t fight on your behalf all the time-“

“You’re the one who said you cursed Urquhart because he said, and I quote, something ‘vaguely mean’ about me,”

“I know,” Lydia sighed, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,”

“You weren’t thrilled about me and Draco at first,” Harry reminded her.

“I know but I didn’t kick up a fuss about it,”

“Because you bury all your feelings and then they all explode out of you,” he said matter-of-factly.

Lydia blinked at him, “since when were you so aware of your surroundings?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s a new me. Amazing, isn’t it?” He smiled at her sadly, “don’t fight with George because of me, though,”

“Yeah...” She said quietly, “anyway, what did you speak to Mr Ollivander and Griphook about?”

“Well...” he said, “You-Know-Who is looking for a new wand and got Ollivander to make him a new one. Also, I can use this wand now,” he held up one that he had taken off a Snatcher, “and...he has the Elder Wand. I saw him with it,”

Lydia closed her eyes, “We’re actually going to have to break into the vault, aren’t we?”

Harry sighed and nodded.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, “but we need to He sure. Hermione can transform into Bellatrix with Polyjuice potion and then Griphook will come with us.”

“You really simplified that then,”

“Yeah, I know. We just have a slight problem,”

“Which is?”

“Griphook wants the sword,”

Lydia stared at him. “No. He can’t! We need that for-“

“I know,” he said quietly, “but I think we’ll just have to double-cross him, somehow,”

“Oh, yeah, that’ll go brilliantly-“

“Yes, I know,” he said quickly, “But there's another thing I want to talk to you about. I want Draco to come with us,”

“Harry, I love you and all, but Jesus Christ are you mad?”

He laughed slightly, “the more stressed you get the more you sound like a Muggle,”

“Even Jesus can't help us now,”

The door opened and Bill walked in. Immediately, the two of them fell silent. Lydia turned back round to the carrots.

“I know you’re planning something with Griphook,” it was not a question, but a statement.

Harry nodded. Lydia refused to turn round to face him.

“I’ve worked with goblins for a long time,” Bill said, “And they’re dangerous to work with. What are you-“

“We can’t tell you, I’m sorry,” Harry said.

Bill was silent for a moment, “OK. But you seriously need to be careful,”

Dinner that evening was very quiet, only Fleur and Luna were talking. Hermione kept on looking between Lydia and George. They were sat next to each other, and still hadn't spoken apart from a quick, “good morning,” after they woke up. Draco was sat next to Ron and neither of them looked very happy about it. Bill was looking between Griphook and Harry. Lydia felt as though asking Bill for more advice on how to work with Goblins would make more sense, but it would be impossible to do so without giving away what they were actually doing.

The fact that Harry wanted Draco to come with them was still playing on Lydia's mind. She could see the benefits of him coming with them, but she could also see all the problems with him coming. Lydia didn't trust Ron to not try and punch Draco at any opportunity, or Hermione, for that matter. She was quite sure that Harry hadn't brought up bringing Draco with them, for the main reason that she hadn't heard any arguments. All she knew is that she didn't want to be in the room when he asked them.

Suddenly, there were three bangs on the door and everyone jumped. Automatically, Lydia’s hand went to George’s. Bill stood up, his wand drawn. Harry and Ron were not far behind. Griphook glanced at the door and then slipped under the table and out of sight.

“It is I, Remus John Lupin! I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me to address and bade me come in an emergency!”

Lydia glanced at George, his eyes were wide with fear. She was expecting the worse news.

“Lupin,” muttered Bill, running to the door and wrenching it open.

Remus walked into the house, white faced and tired.

“It's a boy!” He announced.

Hermione shrieked, “Tonks had the baby?”

“Yes, yes!” Remus shouted, looking thrilled.

“Blimey! A baby!” Ron said, as though he had never heard of such a thing.

He strolled over to Lydia and Harry and pulled them both up, hugging them.

“What-” Lydia said.

“You'll be godparents?” He asked, “both of you?”

“U-us?” Harry stammered.

“Yes!” Remus cried as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I can't think of anyone better,”

“O-of course,” Lydia said.

“He’s called Teddy, after Tonk’s father!” Remus continued delightedly, “and he's a Metamorphmagus just like his mother! His hair has already started changing colour!” He reached into his cloak and took out a picture of a small baby with bright blue hair, waving his fists at the camera. Remus pushed it into her hands, “keep it,” he said, “you should know what he looks like! Well, for now, anyway...”

Lydia smiled and dropped back down into the seat, staring at the picture. George looked over her shoulder at the picture. “Cute,” he muttered. But Lydia couldn't bring herself to admire how sweet he was, because all she could think about was the fact that she and Harry were setting a terrible example for little Teddy Lupin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Also, if you don't like Drarry/Draco in general I'd highly recommend you stop reading now because you'll hate everything I write from here on out. 
> 
> -E.


	29. Gringotts

After Remus left, Lydia retreated to the windswept garden of Shell Cottage, clutching the picture of her Godson. Is this what Sirius had felt like after James and Lily had asked him to be Godfather? Had he sat alone, thinking about how irresponsible he was? Had he considered the fact that he might not even live to see his God Children's first birthday? Had he thought about the fact should James and Lily die, he would be responsible for a child.

Why Remus had thought that she and Harry would be good Godparents, she had no idea. Neither of them could look after themselves, never mind a baby. Lydia had never even met a baby before. She shuddered at the thought of having to possibly babysit for Remus and Tonks one day.

“He’s sweet,”

Lydia turned around as George slowly sat next to her, looking at the picture of Teddy.

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “sweet,”

They were silent for a while. Lydia couldn't take her eyes off Teddy. She could never imagine having a child of her own, not when the world was the way it was...

“I'm sorry,” George said suddenly, “Everything you said about Harry and Draco was right. And everything you said about being in Slytherin is right. I should have realised how horrible people treat Slytherins,”

“Forget it,” Lydia muttered, finally putting the picture of Teddy away, “I overreacted. Last year, it was weird for me but...” I shrugged, “he's all I have,”

“That's not true,” George said quietly, “for a while, sure, all you had was Harry but things are different ow. You have Ron and Hermione, as well as all my family. And Remus. And me. And now Teddy Lupin, apparently,”

Lydia snorted, “Poor kid. Imagine being brought up by a Marauder and Nymphadora Tonks and having me as Harry as your Godparents,”

“In a different world, you would have been brought up by all four Marauders. Imagine that,” George said quietly.

Lydia smiled. Poor Professor McGonagall would probably have retired before having to teach two children who had been exposed to the Marauders for birth. She wondered how much more trouble she and Harry would have gotten in and whether the castle would still be standing.

“George, do you think I'm evil?” Lydia asked before she could stop herself.

“Come again?”

“It's just - I don't know. When we were on the run, we overheard Dirk Cresswell and Ted Tonks speaking and...it's stupid, but he was talking about dad dying and the..you know, that Death Eater,” Lydia glanced over at him. He looked awkward. They had never actually spoken about anything that had happened after James had been killed, “and he said he thinks there's something up with me,”

“I think there's something up with you,”

“What?”

“Full disclosure, I think it's really weird that when you sleep, you hog the whole bed. Like, I just don't understand how someone so small can take up so much room. You know you've kicked me out of bed on three separate occasions?” George said, “Also, sticking your wand in your bun? So strange. I had to hex so many people in school because they kept on pointing out that it just messed your hair up even more. And I'm only saying this because I love you, they made a very good point,”

“George, I'm being serious-”

“So am I! You’re really strange,”

“George,” Lydia said.

He smiled at her. “I don't think you're evil, Lyds. You’ve just had a bit of a shit life and so you’ve been put in situations that the rest of us never have been,”

“Yeah but that Death Eater-”

“-had just killed your dad,” George said firmly, “He would have done worse to you,”

“I don't know about that,” Lydia said.

“Lyds, if you were evil, I'm sure Dumbledore would have cottoned onto it and done something about it,” George said.

“Snape-”

“Was working for You-Know-Who, he had a lot of protection. You're not working for You-Know-Who, are you?” George asked, “Are you? Because if you are, it is a deal breaker,”

Lydia laughed and rolled her eyes, “I'm obviously not working for You-Know-Who,”

“Just making sure,”

\---

They next morning, Lydia, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Griphook woke up earlier than anyone else. Ron told Bill and Fleur to not see them off and they grudgingly obliged. When Harry nudged her awake, she turned over to see George awake, which would only make this entire thing worse.

“Are you going to do something stupid today?” He asked quietly.

“No,” she said, “We’re going to go and do something really stupid today,”

“Brilliant,” he muttered.

She kissed him quickly, “go back to sleep,”

In the kitchen, Hermione and Harry were stood on opposite sides of the kitchen, glaring at each other. It was half past four in the morning and the last thing that Lydia wanted was to have to break up an argument between Harry and Hermione. Draco was stood eating a bowl of cereal, very much looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him.

“He would help, Hermione!” Harry said earnestly.

“He would bring unwanted attention,” Hermione said exasperatedly.

“I bring unwanted attention,” Harry pointed out, “Namely the attention of the Dark Lord,”

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to look at Lydia, “What do you think? Should we bring him?”

“Harry? Definitely not, he's annoying,” she said lightly.

“Lydia...” Hermione said, smiling lightly, “I mean Malfoy,”

“You both make good points,” Lydia said carefully, “He would probably bring unwanted attention but at this point, all of us do. But, he's also a powerful wizard. We need all the help we can get,”

At this point, Ron walked into the kitchen and glared at Draco.

“Did Hermione react in the way I said she would?” Ron asked Harry who just nodded. Ron sighed, “Told you, mate, it's a bad idea,”

“I think we should take him,” Lydia said, “We can just disguise him like we are with Ron. There's only enough Polyjuice Potion left for me and you, isn't there?”

Hermione nodded, “Fine,”

“If it wasn't so early in the morning, I'd argue with you,” Ron said.

They left the house very quickly, careful not to wake Dean and Luna up. Hermione was already wearing Bellatrix’s robes and looked very odd in them. She handed Lydia a goblet of Polyjuice Potion, containing the hair of a muggle that Hermione found. It turned a light pink colour but still somehow managed to look very unappetising.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate Polyjuice Potion?” Lydia asked.

“Five times this morning,” Hermione said, “drink up,” she turned to Ron and began to move her wand over his face, muttering spells underneath her breath. His nose grew larger and his eyebrows bushier. His freckles dissolved into nothingness to be replaced with three long scars. Lydia thought he looked like Bill until Hermione waved her wand again and his hair turned from its usual red to as dark as Harry and Lydia’s.

“How do I look?” Ron asked, turning to Harry.

“Not my type, but you’ll do,” Harry said.

Ron looked mildly offended, “What do you mean I'm not your type?”

“Not now, Ron,” Lydia sighed.

“Do I look like your type?”

He looked so hurt that Lydia felt obliged to say that he was. Hermione beckoned Draco over to her and began to transform his face. By the time she was finished, Lydia was unable to recognise him. His hair was light brown and fell to his shoulders. His skin had some colour to it and his face was a lot fuller than usual.

“If you say he's your type, I'm never speaking to you again,” Ron muttered to Harry.

“That only makes me want to say he's my type more,” Harry said.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two of them and took the other goblet of Polyjuice Potion and quickly drank it, a disgusted look on her face. Seconds later, Bellatrix Lestrange was stood before them, and, had she not known it was Hermione, Lydia's first instinct would have been to hex her.

“How do I look?” Hermione asked in Bellatrix’s voice.

“Terrible,” Lydia said, “but in the best way,”

Griphook walked over to them, “let's get this over and done with, then,”

Harry bent down and allowed Griphook to climb onto his back. Lydia threw the Invisibility Cloak over them and walked around them, making sure that she could see them. When she was sure that no feet could be seen, they joined hands and Apparated to outside of the Leaky Cauldron.

Inside, the pub was nearly deserted. The landlord, Tom, stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses. A group of people having a whispered conversation in the corner of the room took one look at Hermione and retreated back into the shadows, and out of sight. Lydia kept her head down, worried that people would somehow recognise her through he disguise.

“Madam Lestrange,” murmured Tom, bowing his head slightly as Hermione walked past.

“Good morning,” said Hermione and as she did so, Lydia saw Tom give her a funny looking.

“You're being too nice,” Lydia whispered in Hermione's ear, “she’d never say that,”

“OK, OK!” Hermione said.

Out in the tiny backyard, Hermione took out Bellatrix’s wand and tapped a brick on the wall. At once, it began to spin and whirl, opening an entrance into Diagon Alley. It was quiet. The shops were not due to open for hours and there was barely anyone about. Anyone who was, hurried past them, their heads bent low. It looked completely different to the Diagon Alley that Lydia had once known and loved.

Automatically, Lydia turned her head in the direction of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. The once vibrant shop was now deserted and colourless, and looked as though it had wilted along with the shops around it. She turned away from it and followed Hermione up the narrow, cobbled street, peering into streets as she did. Most shops were now dedicated to the Dark Arts and posters of her and Harry glared down at them as she passed, with the occasional pictures of Ron and Hermione.

A number of ragged pictures sat huddled in doorways, insisting that they were really wizards and asking for gold. It took everything in Lydia to not try and help them. When they saw Hermione, however, they seemed to melt into the darkness of the doorways; drawing hoods over their faces or turning their back on her completely. Lydia had never quite understood the power that Bellatrix Lestrange had over people until now.

One man suddenly launched himself at Hermione, “MY CHILDREN!” He bellowed, “WHERE ARE THEY? YOU KNOW! YOU KNOW!”

“I-I,” Hermione stammered.   
  
The man lunged at her, his hands outstretched and going for her throat but there was a bang and a burst of red light and he was thrown backwards onto the ground, unconscious. Lydia spun around to see Draco stood there, his wand outstretched with a look of shock on his face as he stared at the man on the ground.

“Thank-you,” Hermione said timidly, massaging her neck.

“Let's keep going,” Lydia said.

Their entrance into Diagon Alley could not have been more conspicuous if they tried. Lydia was just moments away from suggesting that they leave and come back another day with a different plan, but before she could talk to anyone, someone cried out from behind them.

“Why, Madam Lestrange!”

Lydia whirled around. A tall, thin wizard was striding towards them. The sleeves of his robes slipped down slightly, revealing a Dark Mark burned there. Lydia tried to disguise the fear that was on her face and looked away from him.

“Travers,” Draco breathed in her ear.

Pretending to cough, Lydia leaned over to Hermione and whispered his name in her ear.

“Travers,” Hermione said, her voice shaking slightly, “how are you?”

“Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix,”

“Really? Why?” Hermione asked.

“Well,” Travers looked awkward for a moment, “I did hear at the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor where confined to the house after the escape of the Potter’s and your nephews betrayal,”

Hermione drew herself up to her fullest height and said, in a way that was very reminiscent of the real Bellatrix, “The Dark Lord forgives those who have served him most faithful in the past. Perhaps your credit s not as good with him as mine is, Travers,”

Though the Death Eater looked offended, he did look less suspicious and Lydia willed herself to calm down. He glanced over at Lydia, Ron and Draco, frowning slightly.

“Forgive me, but I do not recognise these three,”

“This is Dragomir Despard,” Hermione said, indicating Ron, “Alexandre Clermont-”

“Bonjour,” Draco said in a fantastic French accent that actually made Lydia raise her eyebrows at him.

“-and Amalia Tewksbury,” she pointed at Lydia who nodded quickly, “they're foreign wizards but very sympathetic with the Dark Lord’s regime,” They had decided on fake identities before they left, and it was only now that Hermione had said them out loud to another person that Lydia realised how terrible they really were.

Travers, however, did not seem to pick up on this and turned back to Hermione, “So, what brings you and your, ah, sympathetic friends to Diagon Alley this morning?”

“Gringotts,” Hermione replied.

“Why, me too!” Travers exclaimed and Hermione had no choice but to fall into step with him.

Lydia, Draco and Ron followed behind and she could only assume that Harry and Griphook was behind them. They slowly walked up the steps of Gringotts Bank. Two wizards stood on either side of the door, holding what Lydia recognised to be Probity Probes. She smiled at the memory of Mr Filch once prodding George so hard with one, that he woke up the next day with a bruise on his arm.

Behind her, Lydia heard Harry murmur, “Confundo,” twice. Unnoticed by Travers, he carried onto into Gringotts and Hermione, her long black hair rippling in the breeze behind her, followed him. She was almost through the doors when one one of the Wizards stopped her.

“One moment, Madam,” he said, walking towards her and raising his Probe.

“But you've just done that!” Hermione said indignantly.

“You checked them all, Marius,” the other one said in a slightly dazed voice.

Hermione swept past them with Ron at her side and Lydia and Draco rushed up the steps. Lydia chanced a glance behind her and looked at the two wizards, they both still looked very confused and were scratching their heads.

As though Hagrid was stood next to her, Lydia heard his voice loud and clear as she walked over the threshold of the bank, “Like I said, yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it,”. And there was no doubt about it, they were all completely mad. If eleven year old Lydia had known that at the age of seventeen, she would come back with Harry, two unlikely friends and someone she had grown to hate at school to rob it...well, she wouldn't even know how she would react to it for she couldn't quite react to it now.

Hermione allowed Travers to step in front of her under the pretext of explaining the features of the hall to Lydia, Ron and Draco. And then, she stepped forward to a goblin and cleared her throat.

“M-Madam Lestrange!” He said, obviously startled, “Dear me! How may I help you today?”

“I wish to enter my vault,” said Hermione.

The goblin seemed to recoil a little. Lydia glanced around the vast hall and seemed that most goblins had stopped working to look at them. It suddenly occurred to Lydia that what Draco had done might have been common knowledge amongst everyone, and not just the Death Eaters.

“You have...identification?” The goblin asked.

“Identification? I have never been asked for identification before!” Hermione said.

“Your wand, will do,” the goblin said.

They knew. Voldemort must have informed the Gringotts goblins that an imposter might try and break into Gringotts and that Bellatrix no longer had her wand. If Hermione handed her wand over now, it would be game over for them...and Lydia could do nothing but watch as Hermione, hand shaking slightly, handed the wand over.

“Ah,” the Goblin said, “yes, I see you have had a new wand made!”

“A new wand?” Travers asked, striding over to them, “But how could you have done? Which wand maker did you use?”

Lydia felt something brush against her and she was sure it was Harry hurrying over to Travers. He seemed to freeze for a moment and then a look of calmness spread over his face and he began to nod serenely.

“Yes, I see,” he said, looking down at the wand, “yes, very handsome. And is it working well? I always think wands require a little breaking in, don't you?”

Hermione looked shocked but managed to go along with it. Lydia noticed the effects of the Imperius Curse and was mentally praising Harry for his quick thinking. If that had been Lydia under the cloak, she probably would have just cursed everyone and made the entire situation ten times worse.

Amazingly, everything went to plan and the goblin slid smartly off his chair and lead them into the rough stone passageways that lead to the vaults. When the door closed with a bang behind them, Harry whipped off the Invisibility Cloak. Neither the goblin nor Travers seemed surprised to see Harry Potter suddenly in their midst, and Lydia thought that Harry had done quite a good job with the Imperius Curse.

“They're imperiused,” Harry quickly explained to Ron and Hermione who looked confused, “I don't know if I did it strong enough though. I kind of panicked,”

“We’re in trouble, though,” Lydia said, “they suspect something’s going on,”

“What do we do?” Ron asked, ‘get out whilst we can and think of a better plan?”

“We’ve gotten this far,” Harry said, “I reckon we might as well get going. Also, we have no idea what's happening out there,” he nodded towards the rest of the bank.

“He's right,” Draco said quietly, “There's no point in giving up now,”

“Good!” said Griphook, making Lydia jump. She had forgotten that he was there, “We need Bogrod to control the cart. I no longer have the authority to do so...but there will be no room for the wizard,”

Harry pointed his wand at Travers, “Imperio!” He turned and set off along the dark track at a fast pace.

“What'd you make him do?” Ron asked.

“Hide,” said Harry. He pointed his wand at Bogrod. The goblin whistled and a little cart came trundling along the tracks towards them.

They piled in quickly. Lydia was sure that she could hear shouting behind them in the rest of the bank but it did not matter as the cart took off at once and Lydia could no longer hear anything over the sounds of the cart rattling on the track. The more Lydia thought about the plan, the more stupid it seemed. They could have just pretended to go to another vault and then had the goblin take them to Bellatrix’s...

It was too late to go back now, though as they were deeper into Gringotts than Lydia had ever been. She heard the sounds of rushing water just ahead of her and looked up to see a waterfall pounding over the tracks. “NO!” Griphook shouted, but it was too late.

As the water poured over them, she felt the cart lurch forward and her body suddenly became weightless as she was thrown the air, vaguely aware of the others flying besides her. Closing her eyes before the impact, Lydia heard Hermione shriek something and suddenly, she felt herself fall slowly to the ground and landed painlessly on the floor.

“C-Cushioning Charm,” Hermione spluttered, “I remembered Dumbledore using it on Harry after that Quidditch Match in third year...”

Draco helped Lydia to her feet and she shrieked when she looked at his face for he looked like himself again. She spun around and saw that both Hermione and Ron’s disguises had gone away, and assumed that she no longer looked like Amalia Tewksbury.

“The Thief's Downfall!” Griphook said, clambering to his feet, “it washes away all enchantments and magical concealments. They know something is happening and have set all defences against us,”

Harry turned round to Bogrod and quickly pointed his wand at him, “Imperio!”

“This was a terrible plan. Can I say that?” Lydia asked, looking around at them all.

“Yes, well, we’re here now,” Harry muttered. He looked up suddenly and Lydia knew why, she could hear the sounds of footsteps running over to them.

Before anyone could do anything, Draco had stepped forward and pointed his wand upwards, “Protego!” He turned around and looked at their shocked faces, “They won't be able to get to us,”

“Good thinking,” Hermione said, looking genuinely shocked, “How far now, Griphook?”

“Not far now, not far now...” Griphook said, “this way,”

They turned a corner and saw something that Lydia knew would be there, it still was not prepared for. The dragon lay curled up on the ground, protecting four or five of the deepest and oldest vaults in the bank. It's scales had turned pale from the lack of sunlight and its eyes were milky and pink. It was chained to the ground by its rear legs, both of which were bleeding a raw. Lydia's immediate reaction was to draw her wand on it, but the closer she looked at it, the more depressing it became. Great beasts like this weren't meant to be held up underground.

“It's partially blind,” said Griphook, “but even more savage for that. We have learned how to control it though,” he pointed at a bag close to Ron, “hand them out. They’re called Clankers. The dragon is trained to expect pain when he hears them,”

“That’s awful,” Hermione said, but Griphook either did not hear or did not care about the dragon enough to answer. He began to shake the Clanker and the Dragon immediately began to cower under his wings.

“Quick,” Griphook said, pointing at one of the vaults, “Get Bogrod to put his hand on the door of the vault, that will open it,”

Harry turned his wand on Griphook and they hurried forward. The Lestrange vault was bigger than any that Lydia had ever been in before. It was stacked high with gold and silver that glinted in the light of the lanterns that hung from the ceiling. She suddenly felt very overwhelmed looking at it all and wondered if destroying everything j sideways their best bet.

“Remember, it's the Cup we need to find. It has Hufflepuffs symbol on it,” Harry said quickly, looking around, “it’s here...it must be...,”

The five of them stood in the room, looking around. The more Lydia looked, the more everything seemed to blend together. After a few minutes, it was just like one giant ball of gold and silver.

“There!” Draco cried, pointing into the top corner of the vault.

Lydia turned around too quickly and accidentally touched a goblet next to her. “Ouch!” Her hand began to burn and from the goblet, more identical copies of it appeared, “what’s going on?”

“Don’t touch anything!” Hermione said quickly, but just as she said it, Ron touched a silver plate and that too multiplied.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, staring down at his hand, “ah, Merlin!”

“How are we going to get it without touching anything?” Harry asked, desperately looking around.

“The - ouch! - the sword!” Lydia yelled. A rush of silver plates and caused Draco to fall into an entire shelf of gold and they all came crashing down onto her, “Harry, hurry!” She yelled, as she felt her skin begin to blister.

“Levicorpus!” Hermione said, pointing to Harry.

Hoisted into the air by his ankle, Harry took the sword of Hermione and put it through the handle of the cup, picking it up. Thankfully, it did not multiply.

“Liberacorpus!” Harry said, and he fell back to the floor again, the sword dropping out of his hand. He jumped to his feet, burns on his face, and spun around, “the sword! Where is it? It has the cup on it!”

Griphook saw it before they did and lunged towards it. Evidently, he had not trusted them to give the sword to him when they had gotten out of here. He grabbed it, and as he did so, the cup was flung through the air. Lydia dived forward and caught it in her hand, screaming as it multiplied and began to burn her skin.

Ron's hand closed around her arm and pulled her up. Griphook was already out of the vault and, clutching the sword to his chest, he ran through the chamber outside screaming, “Thieves! Thieves! Help! Help!”

“Come on!” Draco called to them, “their going to be here soon!”

Now waist deep in burning hot treasure, they fought through it, desperate to get to the door. Lydia held the cup over her head, terrified of losing it in the vault. Finally, with one final push, Lydia fell out of the vault and onto the hard, cold floor outside. But her relief at feeling something cold was temporary as a horde of goblins made their way over to them.

Draco was the first out of them all to get back up, “Stupefy!” As quickly as possible, Lydia, Harry, Ron and Hermione joined in, sending stunning spells into the crowd of goblins. Wizard guards seemed to appear out of nowhere and sent stunning spells straight back and Lydia could see no way out of this. She glanced to the side of her and watched as Draco sent stunning spell after stunning spell at the crowd advancing on them. She never would have thought that she would have died with Draco Malfoy at her side.

“DOWN!” Ron yelled, kicking her to the ground as the dragon let out an almighty roar and bellowed fire over their heads.

“We don't have to die!” Lydia yelled, suddenly coming to a realisation.

“What?” Draco said.

“We don't have to die!” she repeated, “come on! Follow me!”

She grabbed Hermione and pushed her up off the ground, beckoning for the boys to follow her. It was probably the most ridiculous idea that she had ever come up, and was definitely a sign of complete madness, but there was no other way out. Hiding behind the dragon who had not realised they were there, she pointed her wand at the cuffs that bound it to the ground.

“Relashio!” The cuffs broke with a loud bang and Harry was the first to realise what she was doing.

“Brilliant!” He yelled at her, “absolutely brilliant!”

“Lydia, what are you-?” Hermione called.

“Get up! Come on!” She yelled, shoving Draco and Ron towards the dragon, “ON! NOW!”

They clambered onto the dragon quickly and seconds later, it realised that it was untethered. It gave a great roar and then reared, stretching it's great wings and taking flight. It clawed away at the ceiling, but it wasn't getting very far. Already, the remaining guards and goblins on the first were pulling themselves back together and shooting spells at them.

“Defodio!” Hermione yelled, “come on! It's a gouging spell! Quick!”

The others quickly joined in and within minutes, they had carved a passageway big enough for the dragon. It gave another great roar and flew upwards, perhaps able to smell the freedom it had so longed for. And, at last, by the force of the dragons strength and their combined spells, they had made it into the marble hallway, scattering the goblins and wizards that were still there.

Lydia clung onto Hermione as the dragon forced itself out of the metal doors and into the sky above Diagon Alley. In front of her, she could hear Hermione quietly sobbing and she suddenly remembered that Hermione had a massive fear of flying. Behind her, Ron was swearing over and over again and there might have been a few times when he threatened to kill Lydia for making them do this.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the dragon dipped suddenly and Lydia looked over the edge of it. They were flying over water and Harry seemed to be on the same wavelength as her.

“JUMP!” Harry yelled.

“What?” Hermione yelled back but he had already gone over the sid of the dragon and splashed into the water below.

Knowing Hermione would rather stay on the dragon for the rest of her life than jump from such a height, Lydia grabbed her around the middle and ignoring her cries of protest, Lydia dragged her off the dragon with her and they splashed into the water. Her robes weighing her down for a moment, Lydia thrashed around and kicked her legs, breaking the surface and looking around for the others. She did a quick headcount and was thankful to see that everyone was still with them.

They swam to the edge of the water and staggered out of the water, coughing and spluttering. Ron took one look at them and burst into laughter. It took a moment, but then they were suddenly all laughing, tears streaming down their faces.

“We just broke out of Gringotts,” Ron gasped, clutching his side, “on a dragon!” He turned to Malfoy and clapped him on the back, “we might not be best mates, but you just helped us a lot so...thanks,”

Draco looked shocked but was spared from answering from Harry crying out in pain. Lydia rushed over to him and stopped him from falling over.

“What is it? Harry, what's going on?” Lydia asked, “Harry!”

“He knows,” he said, “he knows we’re looking for the Horcruxes. Ones the snake and the other is at Hogwarts,”

“I'm guessing we’re going back to school then,” Lydia said.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so fun to write! I can't wait to get into all the stuff with Ron and Hermione trying to get used to Draco. 
> 
> Also, the battle of Hogwarts is coming up next and I am so ready! I finished planning it last night and I just can't wait. The only problem is is that I think it might take me a while to write, so I don't know how regular my upload schedule will be. 
> 
> Either way, thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E.


	30. It Begins

Hermione was dead set against going back to Hogwarts, but the more Lydia thought about it, the more she realised that there was no way they couldn't not go back. If Voldemort knew that they were looking for Horcruxes, then his first move was to probably move the Horcrux from Hogwarts to an even more secure place. And, of course, there was the snake. Voldemort never went anywhere without the snake and the best way to get to Nagini, would be to go wherever Voldemort did. 

When Lydia pointed this out to Hermione, she nodded and Lydia knew that she was convinced. They quickly changed out of their sopping wet clothes and huddled together, getting ready to Apparate until Harry stopped them.

“Wait! Put this on!” He held the Invisibility Cloak out to them and through a mixture of panic and annoyance, Lydia almost hit it out of his hand.

“Harry, we could barely fit under it in first year! And now there's five of us and-”

“It's dark, no one will see our feet!” 

Lydia wanted to point out that someone like Voldemort would definitely be able to see their feet but decided against it. The five of them huddled together and Harry threw the cloak over them. Even with the tallest of them (Ron and Draco) bending down, their feet could still be seen. They turned on the spot and Lydia’s feet found the pavement in the village of Hogsmeade. 

She barely had time to appreciate the fact that she was in one of her favourite places in the world when a loud shrieking noise rent the silence. At once, Hermione dragged them down a tiny alley near the Hogg’s Head Inn and they ran down to the very bottom, crouching in the darkness.

“Caterwauling Charm,” Draco whispered, “they knew we were coming,” 

“Let's go now,” Hermione said, “and come back another-”

She was cut off by the sound of running footsteps and Lydia was sure that they had been found. At the top of the alley, she could see a Death Eater with their back to them, looking around.

“Potter!” He yelled, “we know you're here!”

“The cloak!” Another yelled, “they might be under the cloak!” 

_ “Accio Cloak!” _

Immediately Lydia grabbed the bottom of the cloak and Harry did the same, but it did not move. Next to her, Ron let out a sigh of relief that Lydia felt might have come too soon. 

“Not under your wrapper, then? We could always call the Dementors!” 

“The Dark Lord wants them alive-“

“And a Dementors won't kill them! They’ll make ‘em easier to kill if anything!” 

Their footsteps died away and Lydia turned round to the others. If the Dementors came, there was no hiding from them. They could see through Invisibility Cloaks and if Harry or Lydia cast a Patronus, then that would give them away quicker than if they showed their face. Ron and Hermione's were also too well known at this point. Lydia quickly turned to Draco.

“Can you cast a Patronus?” 

He suddenly looked very awkward, “um, no, I-”

“Just think of a happy memory!” Harry urged. 

Draco shook his head, “I - I cannot. There is no memory strong enough,” 

An awkward silence followed this and it took Hermione exclaiming, “let's go now!” to break it. Not that it mattered, anyway, a chill fell over Lydia and she knew that they would not be able to get away. Everyone fell deathly silent and Lydia held her breath, as though to protect her soul, as the Dementors neared. Echoes of George screaming in pain took over her mind, mingled with the sounds of her mother's dying words.

“Fuck it,” Harry muttered,  _ “Expecto Patronum!”  _

A stag burst from the end of his wand and cantered down the alley. Lydia suddenly felt as though she had sank into a warm bath as the sounds of her worst memories died away in her mind. She heard the Death Eaters yell in triumph and their footsteps nearing.

“Well, this was fun whilst it lasted,” Draco said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Do you really want your dying words to be something sarcastic?” Lydia asked.

“Yes,” 

“A man after my own heart,” she sighed, pulling herself off the floor and drawing her wand.

‘I'm gay,” 

“Malfoy, I swear I will kill you before-”

A door that Lydia had never noticed until then suddenly burst open next to them. She whirled around, her wand aimed at the face of Albus Dumbledore. Only it wasn't Albus Dumbledore. His hair and beard weren't as long and there was no twinkle in his dull blue eyes. He slowly looked down at her wand, muttered something underneath his breath and then grabbed her arm, pulling her inside. 

“Get in, all of you!” He snapped, “go upstairs. Don't make any noise,” 

None of them needed telling twice, they hurried into the Hogg’s Head and took the stairs two steps at a time. Out of curiosity, Lydia paused at the top of the stairs and crouched down, trying to see what was going on. The man was still stood at the door, staring down one of the Death Eaters.

“The Potter’s are in there!” The Death Eater yelled, “or at least the boy is! I saw his Patronus-”

“You did not see Harry Potter’s Patronus, you idiot!” The man yelled back, “that was my Patronus! A  _ goat! Expecto Patronum!”  _ A goat burst from the end of his wand and ran down the street.

“Well - well,” the Death Eater spluttered, “someone set the Caterwauling Charm off-”

“Also me,” he snapped, “or am I not allowed to put my cat out anymore! I do hope you didn't call the Dark Lord on my cat!” And he slammed the door in his face, storming up the stairs and shaking his head. 

Lydia retreated immediately and went to the join the others, all of whom were ashen-faced. The man stared at them for a moment, and Lydia could not believe how much he looked like Dumbledore. The man paused for a moment longer on Draco and then turned his back on them. 

“Food,” he muttered and then he walked away again. 

“Has anyone noticed how he looks like-” Lydia began. 

“Dumbledore,” Draco finished, “yeah.” 

They were silent until he came back with food, dropping it on the table with a clang. Ron, Hermione and Draco walked towards the food straight away, but Lydia and Harry stayed stood where they were, both regarding the man with mistrust. Then, Harry yelled out and pointed at something on the wall. 

“That's the other mirror!”  he shouted, “you've been watching us!”

The man looked at Harry and nodded. He turned to Lydia, “you asked me for help. That's how Dobby found you. The two of you amused me with your talk about how I might have been my brother,”

“Oh,” Lydia said softly. Then she frowned, “y-you're brother?” 

“Your Aberforth Dumbledore, aren't you? His brother?” Harry said. 

“Goat man!” Lydia exclaimed before she could stop herself, “sorry,” she added in a whisper, “it's just...you know, the...never mind,” 

Aberforth regarded her for a moment and she thought she might have seen a hint of a smile. Finally, he nodded. 

“Albus was my brother, yes,” he said, “though, I don't know if he saw me the same way,” his voice suddenly turned sharp, “what are you lot thinking being back here, anyway? Do you have a death wish? There's Death Eaters everywhere!”

“We have something to do,” Harry said, “something your brother told us about-”

“Oh, he did, did he? And is it a fun task? The kind you'd want to do?” He said scathingly, “your best bet is to leave the country. Get as far away from here as you. Live for as long as possible,”

“No,” Lydia said, “that's not an option-”

“Your seventeen. Live the rest of your life whilst you still can,” 

“We can't live whilst You-Know-Who does. We have to kill him,” Lydia said defiantly, “We need to get into Hogwarts. Tonight,”

Aberforth laughed slightly, “Yes, my brother did tell me about you on the rare occasion he came to the pub. He mentioned how headstrong you are. Killing the Dark Lord isn't a job for you. It isn't a job for anyone,”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him.

“That sounds like someone who's lost hope,” Harry said quietly. 

“Anyone with a brain knows that there’s no way out of this. This is life now and-”

“What about the Order?” Hermione asked. 

“The Order doesn't exist anymore. He's won! And you know it!” 

“He hasn't won,” Draco said, “he hasn't won till these two-” he jerked his head at Lydia and Harry, “are dead. And they still look pretty alive to me,” 

“I thought you were a Death Eater, boy,” Aberforth said gruffly.

“I thought you would be as brave as your brother,” Draco shrugged.

That seemed to have done something to him. At first, Lydia thought that Aberforth was going to try and curse Draco, but instead he turned to face the fireplace. For a moment, Lydia thought that he was talking to himself, but then she noticed that he was talking to the portrait on the wall. It was of a young girl. There was something familiar about the glint in her eyes. 

“You know what to do,” Aberforth said quietly. 

Instead of sliding sideways out of the frame like most subjects of magical portraits, the girl nodded and walked away from them. Her figure getting smaller and smaller until she could no longer be seen. Lydia frowned at the picture, frowning at it.

“That was your sister, wasn't it Mr Dumbledore?” Hermione said in a low voice, “Ariana?”

Aberforth turned to face, “you've been reading Rita Skeeter, have you, girl?” 

“Dumbledore told us about her,” Harry said quickly.

“Yeah, but he never gave a damn about her. He never gave a damn about anyone but himself,” 

Harry opened his mouth to retaliate but Lydia hit him in the arm and pointed at the portrait for something strange was happening. Ariana Dumbledore was walking back to them, but she was not alone. Another figure was stood next to her, though they seemed to be limping slightly. Lydia moved closer to the portrait, her brows furrowed. She recognised the person next to Ariana, but could not quite put her finger on it, but before she could get a proper look, the portrait swung open revealing-

“Neville!” Harry exclaimed, “what are you-”

“Alright?” he asked. He looked over them all, “you all look terrible,” he clambered down from the mantelpiece and nodded at Aberforth. 

“You don't look too good yourself,” Lydia said, running forward and hugging him. 

His right eye was puffy and gave off the impression of a black eye that had been unable to heal. Blood poured from a cut in his lip and his nose seemed to be broken. His hair was overgrown and his robes were ripped and yet he still looked the happiest that Lydia had ever seen him. He hugged Harry, Ron and Hermione and then froze when he saw Draco. He turned back round to Lydia. 

“I heard you'd come to the other side” he grinned.

“You've missed out on a lot,” Ron said, “but he's alright. He's not a Death Eater anymore,”

“He saved my life, Neville,” Lydia said quietly, “all of our lives, actually. He turned his back on his family for us,” 

“I’m sorry for being such a prat,” Draco said, “I know it doesn't change anything and I know me being here probably doesn't help, but I want to do better,” 

Neville shook his hand, still grinning, “I knew it! I knew you'd come, this way-” he helped Hermione up onto the mantelpiece, Ron and Draco followed, “Oh, by the way, Ab,” he added as he helped Lydia clamber through the portrait, “a few more people might be coming,” 

“A few more people?” Aberforth asked furiously, “there's a bloody Caterwauling Charm-”

“I know, that's why they’ll be apparating directly into the bar,” Neville said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “When they get here, send them down the passageway, will you?”

Lydia looked around, confused. They were a passageway with smooth stone steps that looked as though they had been there years and their path was lit by brass lamps that glowed brightly.

“Potter,” Aberforth called to them before the portrait swung shut behind them, “take this other mirror. You two might need it,” 

Harry took it, “Thank-you. You've saved our lives twice, I don't know how to-”

“Look after ‘em. I might not be around to save them a third time,” 

“How long has this been here then?” Ron asked, “it's not on the Marauders Map, is it? I thought there were only seven passageways in and out of school,”

“There is, but they got sealed up at the start of the school year,” Neville sai, “There's no chance of getting out of them now, there's always loads of Dementors and Death Eaters at the other hand,” he rolled his eyes as if this was only a mild annoyance, “Never mind that, is it true? Did you break into Gringotts and escape on a dragon? Everyone is talking about it! Terry Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner,” 

“Yeah, it's true,” said Harry. 

Neville laughed, “Only you lot would be able to get away with that and survive!”

“What's happening with Hogwarts, Nev?” Lydia asked quickly, “We haven't heard anything...” 

The smile faded from his face, “It's not really Hogwarts anymore. You wouldn't recognise the place. Do you know about the Carrows?” 

“Those Death Eaters that teach here?” 

“They do more than teach,” said Neville darkly, “they're in charge of all the discipline. They make Umbridge look tame. The other teachers are supposed to refer us to the Carrows if we do anything wrong. They don't if they can avoid it,”

“What are the lessons like?” Hermione asked. 

“They aren't really lessons. Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, though really it's more about learning the Dark Arts, now. We're supposed to use the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions,” 

“Merlin!” Lydia exclaimed. 

“Yeah,” Neville said, “Alecto, his sister, teaches Muggle Studies which is now compulsory. We’ve got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, that sort of thing,” he shook his head and sighed, “I got this,” he indicated a slash on his face, “for asking how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got,” 

“Blimey, Neville. There's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth,” Ron said, though Lydia thought that he sounded quite proud. 

“You didn't heard her,” said Neville, “None of you would have stood for it either. Thing is though, it's good when we stand up, because it gives other people hope. I used to notice that when Lydia and Harry did, especially in fifth year,” 

“Yeah, but Umbridge didn't use us as a knife sharpener, did she?” Lydia said. 

Neville shrugged, “Doesn't really matter, does it? It's like you said in fifth year, Lydia, sometimes you've gotta do what you gotta do,”

“I think I said that in reference to cursing Zacharias Smith for the fun of it...” 

“They don't want to spill too much pure blood anyway,” Neville said flippantly, “so they won't kill us,” 

Lydia didn't know what was worse, the things that Neville was telling them about her beloved Hogwarts, or the casual way in which he was talking about it. 

“We’ve been doing bits and pieces for Dumbledore's Army, too,” Neville continued, “though that got a bit harder after we lost Luna and Ginny. Oh, by the way,” Neville added to Hermione, “those DA Galleons still work a treat! Luna was able to tell us that she was OK through them,” 

“Wait, you were holding DA lessons?” Harry asked, amazed. 

“Oh, no,” Neville said, “Even we couldn't do that, but we snuck out at night and wrote stuff on the walls. You know,  _ Dumbledore's Army, still recruiting, _ ” he laughed lightly, “Snape hated it and the Carrows couldn't work out how we were communicating,” he sighed, “but we can't do it anymore. Everything is a lot more underground now. Michael Corner got pretty beat up for trying to free some first years from being chained in the dungeons,”

“No way!” 

“Yeah,” Neville said, as casual as ever, “and then they went for my Gran. Thing was,” he turned to face them and Lydia was surprised to see that they were smiling, “they it off a bit more than they could chew with her. I think they thought that because she's a little old witch who lives on her own, they wouldn't have to send anyone powerful. Dawlish is still in St Mungos’,” Neville laughed, “she’s on the run now, but she sent me a letter. Told me that I'm my parents’ son and all that. She also said that they should have known better than to go after the woman who raised Frank and Neville Longbottom,” he was positively glowing with pride. 

“How come you're not in Azkaban?” Draco asked. 

“I think that's where they were going to send me, but I knew it was time to disappear,” 

“Wait - aren't we going back to Hogwarts now?” Ron asked confused.

“‘Course,” said Neville, “You’ll see. We’re here,” 

They turned a corner and there ahead of them was the end of the passageway. Neville pushed the door open, grinning broadly and jumped down. Lydia followed, eager to see what was hidden behind the door. 

“Oi, you lot! Look who it is!”

As Lydia, followed by Harry, walked into the room beyond, there were several yells: 

“It's Harry and Lydia!” 

“Ron!” 

“Hermione!” 

Lydia had a brief glimpse of colourful hangings and many faces before she and the others were engulfed by hugs. She felt as though she was being congratulated for winning the Quidditch Cup. Eventually, Neville began to calm everyone down and managed to move everyone back from them. Draco stood behind them slightly, not quite meeting anyone's eye. 

Finally, Lydia was able to take in her surroundings. They were not in any room that Lydia recognised. Hammocks hung from the ceilings, surrounded by the tapestries of the four houses. Students sat under their houses respective tapestry. 

“Is this the Room of Requirement?” Hermione asked, sounding awestruck. 

“Yep! Really outdone itself, hasn’t it?” Neville said proudly. 

Lydia's eyes automatically went to Slytherin’s tapestry, expecting to see it absent and yet three people were sat there; Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, and Urquhart.

“Daphne!” Lydia exclaimed, running over to her and hugging her, “What’re you doing here? I thought Slytherins would be safe-”

“Nah, not this lot,” Neville said, “Daphne seemed to have taken up your job of being the disruptive Slytherin,” 

“Someone had to do it,” Daphne shrugged, “I asked Professor Snape if he was upset that you were a better Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to Dumbledore's Army than he was after I heard Neville talking about it,” 

Lydia stared at her open mouthed, “You did what now?” 

“I got detention for a month. Nothing too bad though. Slytherin perks,” she said, “and then after your dad’s funeral, I told Urquhart to stay in touch in case something like this happened,”

Urquhart nodded and casually said, “Yeah, I got disowned over the summer because I said that you and Harry had a point,” he shrugged, “I don't actually think my family knew what point I was referring to but it was amusing for all of thirty seconds and now I'm homeless. But Daphne found me at Christmas and I stayed with her family until I could come here,”

Lydia blinked at him, quite touched. “But I cursed you so much...” 

“The Dark Lord has no chance then, does he?” Urquhart grinned. He glanced at Draco, “you stole my thunder, by the way, by leaving your family,” 

Draco smiled at him slightly, “sorry about that,”

“Why are you here?” Neville asked. 

“We’re looking for something,” Lydia said quickly. 

“What does it look like?” Astoria asked. 

“No idea,”

“What is it?” 

“Would love to tell you that but I have no idea,” Lydia said, “but we’ll just get it and then get going-”

“Get going?” Lavender Brown asked. Lydia hadn't noticed that she was there until now, “what, you're going to leave us in this mess?”

“No!” Hermione said quickly, “it'll help in the long run...” 

There was a sound behind them and Lydia spun around. The door opened again and more people arrived; Luna and Dean came first, beaming and holding up their DA Galleons. At the sight of Dean, Seamus gave out a roar of delight and threw his arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth. Lydia snorted and shook her head, thinking that it was probably about time. Then came Cho Chang who waved at Harry and went to sit next to Michael Corner. Next, came Ginny, Fred and George. Ginny beamed at Harry who looked as though he was staring in the sun. Lydia glanced at Draco, who looked as though someone had just said something terribly offensive. Fred waved at them all and George hurried over to her, kissing her. 

“I would avoid Charlie for the next ten years. He heard about the dragon and won't stop talking about it,” he grinned, “also, I can’t believe you broke into Gringotts without me!” 

“George, it’s wasn't fun-“

Harry grabbed Lydia’s arm and quietly said, “He’s on the move,” 

“Here?”

He shrugged but Lydia knew they had next to no time left.  If they didn't act quickly...

“Neville, stop sending for people! We need to be conspicuous!” Lydia said, punching him in the shoulder. 

“No offence, Lydia, but nothing about you is conspicuous,” 

She glared at him, “We’re not going to fight! Dumbledore left us a job and-”

“We can help!” He said, “We’re his army and-” 

Lydia's scar suddenly burned white hot. Voldemort had realised that they had destroyed another Horcrux. Forcing her eyes open despite the fact that she felt like someone was dripping acid onto her forehead, she looked around the room and realised that they could use these people to their advantage. 

“We don't need to tell them what we’re looking for,” she said quietly to Harry, Ron and Hermione, “and if we’re looking for something of Ravenclaws, they could could help,” 

“Right,” Harry said, clapping his hands together and turning to the Ravenclaws, “Do any of you lot know anything about an object that was important to Ravenclaw? Maybe something with her eagle on or something?” 

“There's always the lost diadem,” Luna said. 

Michael Corner rolled his eyes, “but the point of the lost diadem, is that it's lost, Luna,” 

“When was it lost?” Lydia asked. 

“Centuries ago,” Cho said, “Flitwick says that the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself,”

“Why does everything in the Wizarding World have to be so damn confusing,” Lydia muttered. 

“I know,” Ron whispered, “I don’t even know what a diadem is,”

Cho jumped up from her seat, “If you want to see what it looks like, there’s a statue in our common room. I can take you-“

“Luna can go,” Ginny said quickly. 

Cho looked slightly crestfallen but did not say anything. Lydia removed herself from the crowd and slowly sank down into one of the beanbags in the Slytherin corner of the room, her head in her hands. The pain in her forehead had now retreated into a dull throb but it didn’t make her feel better. It only meant one thing: Voldemort had finally realised what they were doing and was coming for them. She tugged at her hair, squeezing her eyes shut. They had ran out of time too quickly. There were still two Horcruxes left and Lydia had no idea if they would ever be able to find this diadem, if that was even the Horcrux. 

Possibly more important to her, Lydia wanted to focus on getting everyone out of the castle before Voldemort came. He had never shown mercy to anyone and she did not think that he would start with a bunch of school kids who had been nothing but disruptions to Hogwarts since Snape became headmaster. She looked over at Fred, George and Ginny and almost winced, they had been through more than enough on her behalf. Luna and Dean, too. In fact, she thought as she glanced around at the injured faces of her friends, everyone in that very room had gone through more than enough because of her and she wasn’t ready for them to go through much more. Maybe even Ron and Hermione still had a chance to get away... 

“I think it might end here tonight,” 

Lydia looked next to her where Draco had sat, looking over the room. 

“Yeah, me too,” she glanced at him, “you’re not planning on coming out of this alive, are you?” 

“I never was,” he said simply, he looked over at her, “but neither are you,” 

Lydia looked away from him, fiddling with the ring on her finger and watching as George cracked jokes with Fred in attempt to cheer people up. It had been playing on her mind for months, she wondered if he had sensed it too...what if she wasn’t meant to come out of this alive? After all, she often felt like the second Potter twin, like the one who was never meant to be. It was her who sat with Slytherin colours on her robes and the ability to speak to snakes. It was her who had been accused of Dark Magic and being the next Dark Lord...and “ _ neither can live whilst the other survives”.  _ What if it meant her and Harry? 

“To be fair,” Lydia said, “I don’t ever think I really thought I was meant to survive,” 

“We live a depressing life, don’t we?” Draco sighed.

“All the best Slytherins do,”

Lydia’s scar began to burn again and she almost fell to the floor. Next to her, Draco yelped and gripped his forearm where Lydia knew the Dark Mark was. He had felt it too. Someone had called for Lord Voldemort.

At once, she jumped up and called for everyone to look at her. 

“Voldemort is coming,” She said. No one moved, “I-I don’t know what we’re going to do b-but we all need to stay calm and I’ll figure something out. Somehow,”

The door opened again and Mr and Mrs Weasley clambered through, followed by Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Remus and Kingsley. Lydia remembered what George had said about Charlie and the dragon and avoided his eye, instead running over to Kingsley. 

“He’s coming,” She said, “any idea on what to do because my first point of call was to just panic,” 

“What was your second?” Mr Weasley asked. 

“Panic some more,” she said, “there’s just a lot of panic involved, I won’t lie,”

The door opened and Harry ran back down the steps, looking stressed. Panting, he hurried over to them, followed by Luna who was somehow looking as though Voldemort wasn’t coming to kill them all. 

“Where’s Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked.

Lydia looked around, “I didn’t even notice they’d gone. I was having a panic attack in the corner,” 

“Of course you were. Right, listen to me, they’re evacuating the younger kids through here and everyone is meeting in the Great Hall,” Harry said quickly, “and then we need to sort this bloody diadem out,” he looked over at Draco, “you come with me to the Great Hall now,” 

“I’ll be with you in a sec,” Lydia said, walking over to where the Weasley’s were. Remus was talking about Teddy to anyone who would listen. 

“He’s with Tonks at her mothers-“

The door opened again and Lydia looked over to see who it was, thinking that everyone must have turned up by now but was shocked to see Percy Weasley. His glasses askew and red hair wild. 

“A-am I late? I-I only just heard,” He stammered, “has it...” 

He trailed off as he realised who was in the room with him. Lydia could tell that he had not expected to run into his entire family and was looking everywhere but at them. 

“W-well,” He said, “I-I suppose now is the best time to say that I’m sorry for...f-for...” 

“Being the world's biggest prat?” Fred supplied. 

“Yes, that,” he said, “I should have known better than to think that you were traitors by standing by Dumbledore and Harry and Lydia,” he smiled at Lydia awkwardly, “and I’m s-sorry. I’ve been trying to get away from the Ministry but it’s been so hard,” 

Another silence followed this and Lydia forced the wand out of George’s hand before he did something stupid. Fleur cleared her throat and then turned back to Remus. 

“‘Eez Teddy’s appearance still changing?” She asked. 

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Percy said loudly, turning to his father. 

Mr Weasley regarded his son for a moment and then walked forward and hugged him. 

“Say no more, son,” he said as Mrs Weasley sobbed next to them. 

Once he had freed himself from his mother's grip, he turned to Fleur and Bill.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your wedding,” He said sheepishly, “but welcome to the family, Fleur...” and then he turned to Lydia and George, who had managed to steal his wand back without Lydia realising, “and I hear that there’s going to be another wedding soon?” 

“It’s a not-quite engagement,” George explained, “it's more of a “I would like to be engaged to you but we might die so here’s a thing to say if we don’t die we will be engaged,” arrangement,” 

Percy frowned at them, “right...” 

Lydia lost track of the conversation for a moment as her scar burned fiercer again. She gripped hold of George’s hand, staring at the floor and trying to regulate her breathing. But she could not focus on anything but one very simple fact; it would all end tonight. She looked up at the Weasley’s and at the happy face of Remus Lupin who was showing off his dear baby son, wondering how many people she was looking at for the last time. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, the closer we get to the end of this the longer I want it to be!! 
> 
> Anyway, thank-you so much for reading! I feel like I say this all the time, but I am so excited for the next few chapters! 
> 
> -E.


	31. The Battle of Hogwarts

“I can't see them anywhere!” Lydia said to anxiously. They had gone up to the Great Hall expecting to find Ron and Hermione there, but they were still nowhere to be seen.

The Great Hall was full to the brim of students, some looked excited but others looked petrified. Lydia glanced back over to the door and more people spilled in; Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell walked in, followed by Oliver Wood, Kingsley, Remus, Mr and Mrs Weasley and finally Bill, Fleur and Percy. Harry was stood at the front of the hall with McGonagall and Draco, though he didn't speak to be speaking to them and instead looked as though he was muttering to himself.

“You alright?” she asked hurrying over to him.

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered.

“...evacuation will be overseen by Mr Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organise your house and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point,”

“What if we want to fight?” called Ernie Macmillan from the Hufflepuff table.

“If you are of age, you may stay,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Where's Professor Snape?” a girl called from the Slytherin table.

“He has, to use a common phrase, done a bunk,” replied Professor McGonagall to raucous cheers, “and-”

Her words were drowned out by a high, cold voice that Lydia knew all too well. She could not work where it came from for it sounded as though Lord Voldemort was stood right next to her.

“I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill any magical blood,”

Lydia gripped George’s hand. There were screams of terror from the other students and she wanted nothing more than to get them out of the castle safely.

“Give me Harry and Lydia Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry and Lydia Potter, I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry and Lydia Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight,”

A silence seemed to swallow the whole hall. Lydia looked up at George whose eyes were wide with terror. A solitary figure rose from the Slytherin table and Lydia recognised Pansy Parkinson. She raised a shaking arm and screamed, “but they're there! Someone grab them!”

George automatically moved in front of them, shielding her and Harry from view. There was a massive movement and suddenly, the whole hall was on their feet, shielding them from Pansy Parkinson. Some moved towards Pansy, wands emerging from under their sleeves and cloaks. It almost moved Lydia to tears.

“Thank-you, Miss Parkinson,” Professor McGonagall said smoothly, “Mr Filch, could you please escort Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house to the dungeons?”

“What?” Lydia exclaimed, pushing through the crowd surrounding her, “no!” But her protests fell on deaf ears as people began to cheer at Slytherins departure. She whirled round to Draco, “are you alright with this?”

“Obviously not, Potter,”

“If you're going home, leave now,” McGonagall said. There was a flurry of movement as people began to leave the room. Only the Slytherin table was deserted.

Kingsley stood up and cleared his throat, “We need a battle plan. We only have half an hour until midnight. Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall will take a group of troops up to three highest towers - Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Astronomy - that way, they'll have an excellent view of what's having on the grounds. Meanwhile, Remus, Arthur and I will take fighters into the grounds. Harry, Lydia, you two do whatever you need to do,”

Lydia glanced at Harry, “which is-”

“I need to speak to Nearly Head Nick first. Do you have the mirror?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll get you when I need you. You find Ron and Hermione,” he thrust the Marauders Map into her hands.

“Right,” Kingsley said, “Team leaders up here and we’ll divide up troops,”

“Wait - are we leaving the Slytherins in the dungeons?” George asked, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to him.

“What?” Lydia asked.

“I mean...they aren't all their parents, are they? And none of them are really Death Eaters and-”

“I fucking love you,” she said, grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him.

“I love you but I should point out that the Dark Lord is coming to kill you,”

“That's the story of my life, isn't it?”

He grinned at her, “but we really should go,”

“Yeah, no, definitely,” she said, grabbing his hand and running towards the dungeons.

The found them locked in the potions classroom, all sat at desks and looking quite bored. When she burst into the room, Daphne, who sat closest to the door, jumped up, her wand in Lydia's face.

“Hey!” Lydia said, holding her hands up, “not here to kill you! Technically here to stop people from killing you!”

Daphne let out a sigh of relief and lowered her wand, her hand on her heart. In the corner of the room, Pansy was still glowering at her but Lydia couldn't care less. George was stood in the doorway, looking up and down the corridor.

“Fifteen minutes left!” He called to her.

“Right,” Lydia said, addressing the Slytherins as a whole, “I'm not having you stay here on your own. We’re evacuating through the Room of Requirement, follow George and he’ll show you where to go,”

Pansy Parkinson rolled her eyes.

“What if we want to fight?” Urquhart asked.

“If you're of age, you can stay and fight - McGonagall’s orders. If you're not staying, follow George,” she looked over at them, “Well? Why are you still here? Get going!”

“See you in a bit,” George said, winking at her, “Follow me!”

Blaise Zabini, Urquhart and Daphne were the only ones who remained. Lydia raised her eyebrows at Zabini who just shrugged and she knew that that was the best she was going to get out of him.

“You lot...uh...you lot with me,” she said, suddenly realising that she had no idea what she was actually doing.

There was a muffled shouting coming from her pocket and Lydia pulled the mirror out of her pocket, looking into it. A beaming Harry looked out at her from the mirror.

“Why are you smiling, we’re probably going to die,”

“Because I know where the diadem is. It's here. The Room of Requirement!”

“The Room of-fucking hell, Harry! I know where it is! I'll meet you there!” She quickly shoved the mirror back into her pocket and turned around to the others, “we’re taking a detour. Come on!”

They ran up to the seventh floor and found the doors of the Room of Requirement thrown open. Inside, only Harry, Ginny and Malfoy remained. Malfoy seemed to be having some sort of argument with Ginny whilst Harry was stood behind them, looking as though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to curse the two of them or not.

“We don't have long,” Lydia said, hurrying over to them, “what's going on?”

“Malfoy won't tell me what's going on!”

“Ginny, no one knows what's going on,” Lydia said, “I don't even know what's going on, but we need you to get out of this room for a few minutes, tops,”

“My mum said-”

“And then come straight back,” Lydia cut across.

“Right, yes, I'll do that,” Ginny said, sweeping from the room, her red hair billowing behind her. Lydia did not at all doubt that she was probably not going to come back at any point.

“Did you find Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked.

“No, I was preoccupied with making sure no innocent Slytherins got murdered,” Lydia snapped, “although - wait, there they are!”

Hermione and Ron had just come into the room, panting. Lydia frowned at them. Ron was holding a broomstick and Hermione had an armful of what appeared to be fangs. For a moment, Lydia thought that they had raided Hagrid’s hut but then she realised what were they were.

“Are those Basilisk fangs?” Lydia asked, amazed.

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed, “it was Ron's idea! We just went down to the Chamber of Secrets and destroyed Hufflepuff's cup!”

“H-how did you get in?” Harry asked, “you have to speak Parseltongue,”

Ron let out a low hiss, that Lydia recognised as him saying, “open” in Parseltongue.

“You kept that quiet!” Lydia said, “since when have you been able to-”

“I can't,” Ron said, “but I remembered what you said when you opened the locket,”

“Right,” Harry said, “but that doesn't matter now. I found the diadem, it's in the Room of Requirement-”

“Where people hide things,” Lydia cut across, “it's where I hid Harry’s potion book after...after he...uh..” She glanced awkwardly at Draco.

“After he took a simple duel one step further?” Draco said.

“Yes, that,”

“Alright,” Harry said, “everyone out-”

“Wait!” Ron said.

“What now?” Lydia asked. She looked at Urquharts watch, “we have ten minutes!”

“It's just, the house elves are still here, aren't they?” Ron said, “don't you think we should go and tell them what's happening? We don't want another repeat of Dobby, do we?”

There was a clatter as Hermione dropped the Basilisk fangs she was holding and flung her arms around Ron, kissing him. Ron froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back, swaying on the spot. Lydia stared at them, beaming. It had taken them long enough.

“Is this the moment?” Harry said weakly.

Lydia hit him in the arm, “leave them alone! It's about time, don't you think?”

“Not when there's a war going on! Ron!” Harry yelled, but he did not look around.

There was a loud bang behind them and Lydia suddenly remembered what they were doing, “hey, you know what, good point. ‘Mione! We need to- Hermione, there's a war - girl, seriously?”

“THERE WAS A WAR GOING ON HERE!” Harry bellowed.

They pulled apart, both grinning. Ron shrugged, “Well, it's now or never, isn't it?”

“I'm all here for this,” Lydia said, gesturing vaguely at them both, “have been dying for it to happen since third year, however, we have five minutes until Lord Voldemort comes to kill us!”

“Oh, yeah...” Hermione said quietly, bending down and picking up all the Basilisk fangs. Ron, pink in the face, mouthed ‘sorry’ at the two of them and they ran back out of the room.

Outside in the corridor, the entire castle seemed to be shaking and Lydia knew that the Death Eaters must be getting close. Harry paced up and down outside of the Room of Requirement, muttering hurriedly underneath his breath. A door materialised in the wall in front of them.

“Harry! Wait!” Lydia said, “we should split up-”

“That's a terrible idea,”

“No, it's isn't!” She said, “if the Death Eaters see me then it’ll give you more time in here! Think about it!”

“I hate it when you're right,” he muttered.

“The diadem is on the bust of a head. It's silver and has a massive blue diamond on it. You can't miss it,” Lydia said.

He nodded, “Got it,”

“Urquhart, Daphne, come with me,” she said, “See you later,”

Harry nodded and they turned their backs on each other. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco and Zabini hurried into the Room of Requirement, the door snapping shut behind them. Lydia ran down the seventh corridor and into the Entrance Hall just as the first wave of Death Eaters burst into the castle. Lydia grabbed Daphne and pulled her to the floor as a curse flew over their heads, narrowly missing Urquhart who had been knocked over by Daphne.

Lydia jumped up again and through herself into the heart of the battle, sending jinxes every which way. No one had recognised her yet, perhaps because she wasn't giving them any time to. Lydia kicked a Death Eater to the ground and cast a Shield Charm around Ernie Macmillan, who was being cornered by five Death Eaters.

“Depulso!” Lydia yelled, taking one of them of his feet. Luna appeared at her shoulder, and, quite calmly said, “Flipendo,” and another one was knocked of his feet.

“That was fun,” she said serenely, “Flipendo!” If it weren't for the severity of the situation, Lydia might have found the whole thing quite amusing. She removed the Shield Charm and ran back over to Daphne and Urquhart who were crouched behind the bannister of the marble staircases, laughing quietly. Lydia tried to get next to them, but there was a duck stopping her.

“What-”

“Have you ever heard of the spell Anaticula?” Daphne asked, actually wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, “My dad told me about it. If you cast it, it makes the wand of whoever your duelling produce ducks whenever they cast spells,”

Lydia spun around on the spot just as a Death Eater was hurtling down the corridor towards her, wand raised. “Anaticula!”

The Death Eater sliced her wand through the air, “Sectumsempra!”

Automatically, Lydia jumped backwards and closed her eyes, expecting the worse, but she did not feel anything cut into her flesh. Instead, there was just a faint quacking noise and Lydia looked down. A number of ducks were waddling towards her at an alarming fast pace, but they did not look they were going to peck her to death.

Daphne, still giggling, jumped up from behind her, “Aqua Eructo!” A powerful jet of water shot from the end of Daphne’s wand and hit the Death Eater in the chest, knocking her off her feet.

“Creative,” Lydia said.

“Your pocket is shouting at you,” Urquhart said, sending a curse over her head.

“Cover me,” she said, hiding behind him and pulling the mirror out of her pocket. At first, she thought that it was broken, for she could not see anything but then she realised that it was smoke that she was looking at. “Harry? Harry?” She called into it.

“Lydia? Can you hear me?” He yelled back, coughing, “The Room of Requirement - it's on fire! I can't get out - HELP!”

“We need to go to the Room of Requirement - now!” Lydia yelled, grabbing the back of Urquharts shirt and dragging him along after.

Crouching down as low as they could, they ran back up to the seventh floor. Lydia did not let herself get distracted by something as mundane as the Death Eaters. All she could think about was her brother and friends trapped in the burning Room of Requirement. She barely even flinched when she saw Peeves the Poltergeist throwing tiny pots of Venomous Tentacula at unsuspecting Death Eaters or Professor Trelawney chucking Crystal Balls over banisters as though they were Quaffles.

“I have more than enough!” Trewlaney screamed at them, ducking out of the way as one of them shot a Killing Curse at her, “and you won't kill me! I know what the outcome of tonight's battle is!”

Lydia was quite sure that the exact opposite of what Trelawney predicted would happen.

Finally, they arrived at the Room of Requirement. She ran forward and yanked the door open. Smoke bellowed out of it and Lydia staggered backwards, her hand clasped over her mouth. Daphne dragged her backwards and tapped her hard on the head with her wand. For a moment, Lydia could not work out what she was doing.

“Bubble-Head Charm,” Daphne said, casting it on herself and Urquhart, “so you can breathe,”

“Smart!” Lydia said, before running into the room.

They were nowhere to be seen, and Lydia could not hear anyone. Uruqhart punched her in the arm and threw a broomstick at her, holding one himself. Lydia grinned at him and quickly got on it, kicking off the ground. And then she saw Harry stood on top of a towering pile of junk, waving at her wildly. Hermione and Ron were stood together on another tower somewhere else. She could not see Draco or Zabini.

Lydia flew over to Harry and pulled him onto the broom, “where's Draco and Zabini?” She called to him over the sounds of the roaring fire.

“They got out! I got the diadem!” He yelled back.

“Is this Fiendfyre?” Lydia asked, swerving out of the way of as sudden burst of fire.

“Yes! Why?”

“Drop the diadem!” She yelled.

“What?”

“DROP THE DIADEM!”

Harry did so and, making sure that Daphne and Urquhart were still flying beside them with Ron and Hermione, Lydia urged the broom to go faster and shot out of the doors. At the very last moment, she lost control of the broom and it suddenly bucked, throwing both Lydia and Harry off of it. They lay in a tangled mess on the floor for a moment and Lydia could do nothing but quietly mutter the counter-charm for the Bubble Head Charm.

“It's gone,” she muttered to Harry, pulling him up, “the Horcrux. There's no defence against Fiendfyre,”

“Yeah, I worked that one out for myself,” he said. He looked around at the others. Blaise and Zabini had since disappeared. Hermione was trying to hold and injured Daphne up. Blood was pouring out of her temple, and she looked very faint.

“Hold her a minute,” Hermione said hastily, “I've got Essence of Dittany somewhere...hang on,” she thrust her hand into her beaded bag and rummaged around for a moment, “Here, got it!” She dropped some of it onto the cut on Daphne’s head and it immediately cleared up, bringing colour back to Daphne’s face.

“Oh, that hurt like a mother-”

There was a loud bang and Lydia jumped. Fred and Percy were walking backwards down the corridor as Augustus Rookwood and Pius Thicknesse advanced on them. Their wands moving so quickly that Lydia could barely keep up with them.

“Oh, by the way, Minister, have I told you? I'm resigning!” Percy yelled.

“You're joking, Perce!” Fred yelled, laughing, “I haven't heard you joke since-”

There was another bang though this one was stronger and Lydia felt herself become weightless. She flew through the air, holding onto her wand as tightly as possible as she hit the ground hard, trying to shield her head as much as she could. Upon impact, Lydia felt the skin on the side of her face tear and blood pour down her face. Her ribs might have been broken, she was not sure but that did not matter for she heard a cry so awful that all the pain she was feeling seemed to melt away.

“Lyds, Lyds?” It was Harry. She felt the concrete of the now destroyed corridor being pulled off her and a hand around her arm, pulling her upwards, “You’re alive, aren't you? Merlin, tell me you're alive,”

“I'm alive, I'm alive,” she said, “is everyone - is everyone OK?”

Holding onto her brother tighter than she ever had done before, Lydia looked around. Daphne was helping Urquhart up, who did not look too injured. And Hermione was pulling herself out of the wreckage, tears making tracks in the dirt that covered her face. And Ron and Percy were both knelt on the ground, their shoulders shaking with sobs.

“No! Fred! No! No!”

Bile rose up in Lydia’s fault as she stared at the body of Fred Weasley, a smile still upon his face. Unable to look any longer, Lydia turned away from him, her head on Harry’s shoulder, trying so hard to regulate her breathing but being unable to focus on anything but the fact that Fred Weasley was dead.

“He can't be dead!” Ron yelled, “It's just one of his s-stupid p-pranks! He’ll get bored in a minute, wait!”

Hermione was knelt next to him, trying to pull him to his feet but he shrugged her off, “He's just joking! You know what he’s like!”

Daphne screamed and pointed ahead of them. A spider the size of a car was forcing itself through a hole in the wall. Lydia and Harry both sent curses hurtling towards it at the same time. The spider jerked horribly and fell backwards through the hole, but it was a meaningless victory for more and more spiders poured through towards them.

Hermione had finally managed to pull Ron away from Fred’s body, though he was now collapsed against her sobbing. Harry and Urquhart ran forward and moved Fred out of the way whilst Daphne and Lydia moved towards the oncoming spiders, their wands outstretched. Lydia jumped in front of Percy, stunning a spider who had been making a beeline towards him.

“Percy!” Lydia yelled, “you need to get up!”

He very suddenly jumped up and looked around. Lydia knew who he was looking for. She saw his eyes settle on the tall figure of Augustus Rookwood who was now pursuing a group of sixth year Ravenclaws.

“ROOKWOOD!” He bellowed and off he went, his wand outstretched.

The spiders were finally starting to disperse, perhaps realising that they would be unable to get through this part of the castle. Hermione and Harry were now wrestling a struggling Ron who was trying to follow Percy, shouting about killing as many Death Eaters as he could fine.

“Ron! If we don't kill the snake it doesn't matter how many Death Eaters we kill! We need to kill Voldemort!” Hermione was saying, kicking him in the shin. She turned to Harry, “Look inside his mind!”

“What?”

“Voldemort's mind, Harry! Look inside of it! We need to find the snake!” She was almost screaming at him now, “I want this to end! I don't want to fight anymore! I'm fed up of it! Just find the damn snake!”

“OK, OK,” he said, letting go of Ron who collapsed against the wall, sobbing again. “The Shrieking Shack,” he said after a few minutes, “he's in the Shrieking Shack,”

“Let's go then,” Hermione said.

“Wait - I need to find George,” Lydia said quietly to Harry and Hermione, “I don't want him hearing about Fred from the wrong person,”

“Obviously. Yeah. You have the Marauder’s Map, don't you?” Harry said.

Lydia nodded and hid behind a tapestry, pulling the Map out of her jacket and quickly saying, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,”, a lump in her throat as she remembered that it was Fred who had given them the map in the first place. Wiping her eyes, she quickly scanned the map, looking for George’s dot. It took her a few minutes, but then she saw him outside the Transfiguration classroom with Neville and Luna.

She quickly tucked the map back into her jacket pocket and took off running again. It took almost half an hour to get to George. The Death Eaters were fighting harder than Lydia had ever thought they would, but the very castle itself seemed to be fighting back. The steps on which Death Eaters were standing suddenly disappeared from beneath their feet, the portraits on the walls shouted words of encouragement and advice to the duellers on the ground and Lydia watched as a suit of armour hit a Death Eater around the head before he could deliver the final blow to Susan Bones.

“GEORGE!” She screamed, “GEORGE!”

“What's wrong?” He asked, “what's happened?”

Before she could answer, before she could even think of the best way to tell him that his twin brother had died, Voldemort's voice reverberated around the school once more. All duels stopped and Lydia could do nothing but grip onto George and wait hear whatever it was Voldemort had to say.

“You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses,”

An image of Fred's dead body swam to the forefront of Lydia’s mind and she realised there was no way they would ever be able to quantify what they lost that night.

“Lord Voldemort is merciful. Command my forced to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured,”

Lydia closed her eyes. She almost knew what was coming next.

“I speak now, Harry and Lydia Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one house in the Forbidden Forest. If , at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences,”

Lydia looked up at George who was staring down at her, shaking his head. “Don't. Don't do it,”

“This time, I shall enter the fray myself, and I shall find you both, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour,”

Without her noticing, the Death Eaters had all retreated. Lydia stood in the middle of the corridor, George and Neville were both staring at her, shaking their heads over and over again. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest. Voldemort was right. She had allowed people to die for her instead of just facing him herself.

“Potter,” it was McGonagall. Her hair was no longer in its usual tight bun, her robes were ripped and there was a large gash on her cheek, “I know what you are thinking, and I implore you to not hand yourself over. We will not be defeated,”

Lydia didn't know how to tell any of them that they were already defeated. She looked back over at George who was now frowning at her. She knew that he could tell that something was wrong, that they had lost someone important.

“Lyds, who's dead?” he asked slowly, “who is it?”

For possibly the first time in her life, Lydia wanted to be nowhere near George Weasley. The horrible, cowardly part of her was telling her to turn her back on him and walk away, because how on earth was she meant to tell him that his twin was dead? But the better part of her forced her to face him.

“I am so sorry,” she said quietly.

“Who is it?”

“There's nothing I could do. Nothing any of us could do,”

“Don't tell me he's dead,” George said, his voice breaking and she knew he was talking about Fred, “Lydia, do not tell me that he's gone,”

Slowly, Lydia nodded.

George let out an awful sound that no curse could ever cause. He collapsed to the floor, sobs wracking his body. Immediately, Lydia fell to her knees next to him, wrapping her arms around him, at a loss of what to say. She knew there was no point in telling him that everything was going to be OK, because she really didn't think that it was going to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through writing this, I realised that this wasn't canon and that I could have let Fred live but like....there's gotta be some emotion in there. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> -E


	32. Snape’s Memories

It took Lydia a while to coax George off the floor. She wanted to give him all the time in the world, but time was not on their side. They had less that fifty minutes before Voldemort came for them, and she knew that George was in no shape to duel anyone, never mind the Dark Lord.   
  
Together, they slowly walked to the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey had set up a makeshift hospital wing in the corner and the dead were lined up in the middle. George hurried over to his family the moment he laid eyes on them. Mrs Weasley was lay sobbing at Fred’s head and Mr Weasley knelt next to her, stroking her hair as tears slid down his face. Charlie stood with his arm around Ginny, whose eyes were red and puffy as she looked down at her brother.   
  
Feeling as though it wasn’t her place, Lydia hung back slightly but when Ginny turned around and saw her, she pulled her in for a hug. Lydia apologised to her over and over again. They never should have caused such a big deal when they came back to Hogwarts. They should have made Neville force everyone to leave before everything got so out of hand. And yet, they had not, and now Fred Weasley was dead.   
  
Lydia pulled away from Ginny, muttered something about making things right and looked around the room, taking in the dead. Every single person she saw was like a dagger to her heart.   
  
Colin Creevey lay next to Fred, his eyes dull and lifeless. With a pang, Lydia noticed the strap of his camera hanging out of the pocket of his robes. She thought about Dennis Creevey and wondered how on earth he would deal with the death of his older brother. You very rarely saw one without the other. On his other side, Lydia’s Ancient Runes teacher, Professor Babbling, was surrounded by her students. Some were crying, others were staring at her blankly as though they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. Lydia couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.   
  
She turned away from Colin and Professor Babbling and walked between the rows of dead some more. People who she had grown up with, who she had seen everyday walking the halls were now dead, all because she had never given herself up in the first place. She paused at Lavender Brown's feet. A blanket had been pulled up to her neck, no doubt hiding some deadly injury. Lydia remembered walking into the Great Hall for the first time behind Lavender all those years ago. If they had known then what they knew now...tears blurring her eyes, she turned away from Lavender and immediately wished that she hadn’t.   
  
Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks lay side by side, dead. Lydia felt the room begin to spin as she looked down at the two of them...newly married and new parents. Remus had been so happy to have a son, Teddy was all he spoke again and now, Teddy Lupin was an orphan. Lydia vowed that, should she somehow survive this, Teddy Lupin would not be brought up in the way that she and Harry were. He would know love and care and true family.   
  
Unable to look at them any longer, Lydia walked back over to the Weasley’s. George stood up when he saw her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers and quietly sobbing.   
  
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he whispered, “the shop...”   
  
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Lydia whispered back, wiping his eyes, “whatever happens, we’ll get through it,”   
  
He nodded and someone tapped Lydia on the shoulder. It was Harry. He looked tired and defeated. Something had happened. Her first thought was that Ron or Hermione had been killed, but then she saw them behind him and she willed herself to calm down. They now had less than forty five minutes to come up with some sort of plan, and Lydia was all out of ideas.   
  
“Snape is dead,” Harry said in a low voice, “Nagini killed him,”   
  
“Oh my god...” Lydia muttered.   
  
“And he gave me his memories. We need to go to Dumbledore’s office. Now,” he said the last word with such urgency that Lydia did not want to hang around any longer.   
  
She turned back round to George, “I need to go and do something,”   
  
“You’re not...you’re not handing yourself over, are you?” He asked quietly.   
  
“Of course not,” she said, “I’ll be right back,”   
  
Lydia barely took notice of anything as they ran through the castle. She didn’t notice how empty it was. How all of the portraits seemed to have fallen silent and how even the ghosts seemed to have disappeared. She didn’t even stop to question how Harry knew the password to the Headmaster’s office or stop to wonder why none of the previous Heads of the school were in their frames.   
  
When Harry poured the silvery memories into the Pensieve, she barely took notice of what was happening around her. Watching the familiar faces of her parents walk and talk hurt her more than she could ever explain. Seeing her father be arrogant in his fifth year and not at all like the man she had come to know threatened to contaminate the few prized memories she had of him. Seeing her mother look at him with such contempt and anger, shattered the illusion of her parents that she clung so desperately to in her mind.   
  
It was only when the adult Snape spoke of her that she paid the memories any attention.   
  
“The girl is in Slytherin.” Snape said, “she is quiet and keeps to herself. I don’t think she’s made friends with anyone in Slytherin House. The boy, on the the other hand, has arrogance enough to match that of his father,”   
  
“Lydia being sorted in Slytherin is...curious,” Dumbledore said slowly, “I expected them both to be in Gryffindor. I assumed that they would go wherever the other did,”   
  
The scene dissolved again and they were in Dumbledore’s office again but on a different day. Snape was stood on the other side of office, half stood in the shadows.   
  
“It is essential that when the time comes, they know an important piece of information,” Dumbledore said.   
  
“What?” Snape asked.   
  
“In order to defeat the Dark Lord...one of them must die,” Dumbledore said, “when Lily sacrificed herself for her children, the course rebounded and  part of Lord Voldemort’s soul latched onto one of them,”   
  
“Which one?”   
  
“I believe it is Lydia,” he said, “the reason she never had to have occlumency lessons was because Voldemort was already a part of her and she never knew any different - it affected Harry differently because he’d never known what it was like to be connected to Voldemort. Over time, she learned to deal with it,”

  
“Does she know?”   
  
Dumbledore shook his head.   
  
“No, Severus. At the end of last year she told me that she would rather kill herself than hunt Voldemort,” he sighed, “and I’m worried that that is exactly what she would do if I told her,” he paused, “you’ve known her long enough to know that if she found this out today, she would kill herself before the day is out. She is rather...headstrong,”   
  
“But if that is the only way Voldemort can be defeated-“   
  
“It is integral that it is Voldemort who kills her,” Dumbledore said, “it has to be him and the exact right moment,”   
  
“So, you’ve been raising her like a pig for slaughter? You’ve been planning to destroy the Potter family again? Harry would be distraught-“   
  
“Severus, don’t tell me that after all this time you’ve come to care for them?”   
  
“Not them,” he raised his wand, “ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” Like when Lydia cast the spell, a Doe burst from the end of his wand and sauntered around the room.   
  
“Lily...” Dumbledore said, “After all this time?”   
  
“Always,”

  
And now Snape stood again in the headmaster’s study as Phineas Nigellus came hurrying into his portrait.   
  
“Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood – ”   
  
“Do not use that word!”   
  
“ – the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!”   
  
“Good. Very good!” cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmaster’s chair. “Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor – and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry’s mind and see you acting for him – ”   
  
“I know,” said Snape curtly. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.   
  
“And you still aren’t going to tell me why it’s so important to give them the sword?” said Snape as he swung a traveling cloak over his robes.   
  
“No, I don’t think so,” said Dumbledore’s portrait. “He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley’s mishap. Lydia in particular. She would take great joy in cursing you, I am sure,”   
  
Snape turned at the door.   
  
“Don’t worry, Dumbledore,” he said coolly. “I have a plan…”

The scene changed again and this time it showed Lydia walking through the forest, following the Doe. Snape lurked in the trees, watching her go. 

  
Lydia gasped and she was suddenly back in Dumbledore’s office. She staggered back from the pensieve, her heart beating out of control. Harry stood a little way away from her, his mouth open slightly. She stood and stared at him, trying to find the right words to say but they had never been in a worse situation.   
  
All she had ever wanted to do was survive. When they were chasing the Philosophers Stone and they came face to face with Voldemort again, she had fought for her survival. When they were in the Chamber of Secrets and the sword presented itself to her, she used it in hopes it would help them survive. When she came face to face with Sirius Black, and thought he would kill them, all she had wanted to was survive. During the Triwizard Tournament, she poured over books and studied for her survival. She and Harry lead Dumbledore’s Army so that they could survive the war. In her sixth year, she had put all that behind her because that was the best way for her to survive. But she was never meant to survive. She had been raised a soldier who would go on a mission that she was never meant to come back from. Now, she had to do what she had to do so everyone else could survive.   
  
“Remember,” Lydia said, fighting to keep her voice calm, “once he kills me, the only thing left is to kill the snake and then you go and kill him, alright? Don’t try and kill him before the Snake,”   
  
“I know, Lyds,” He said, “I know,”   
  
Lydia nodded. “Right. Well...”   
  
“You’re allowed to cry,” he said, “Merlin, Lydia, you don’t need to be brave now. You don’t need to be the emotionless Slytherin you are around people. It’s just me,”   
  
Lydia looked at her brother. He had been the one person who had always been there for her. They had walked into Hogwarts hand in hand, and now she had to walk out alone. He wrapped her in a hug and she allowed herself to sob into his chest as the reality of the situation set in. She would have to die but deep down, she had always known that it would go this way. She looked at Harry and knew that he understood that too.   
  
“Tell Ron and Hermione-“   
  
“I know,”   
  
“And George-“   
  
“I will,” he promised.   
  
“I told him I’d be right back...” she whispered, “I can’t go and speak to him. I’ll never go if not-“   
  
Harry wiped her eyes. “He’ll understand. Once he knows why you’re doing what you have to...”   
  
“I don’t want to,” she whispered and she dissolved into tears again. “Harry, I’m really, really scared,”   
  
A small sob escaped his lips and he bit down in his lip. “If I could go instead of you-“   
  
“I wouldn’t let you,” She said, “the world needs Harry Potter more than it needs Lydia Potter,”   
  
“That’s not true,”   
  
Lydia sniggered, “Do I have to remind you that you’re always going to be Gryffindors Golden Boy? Mr Star Seeker...”   
  
“Wait..the snitch,” he took the golden snitch out of his pocket and pressed it to his lips. It opened, revealing a small black stone. “The resurrection stone...” he went to turn it over but Lydia stopped him.   
  
“No, not here,” she said, “Dumbledore left it for you,”   
  
Harry shook his head and pressed it into her palm.   
  
“I don’t want it. Take it with you. Use it. Whatever,” he shook his head, “it sends people mad, doesn’t it?”   
  
Lydia nodded and closed her fist around it. She wiped her eyes and tried to keep herself calm, for Harry’s sake. He reached into his jacket and handed her the Invisibility Cloak.   
  
“I don’t want it,” he said, “I won’t need it after tonight,”   
  
She took the Cloak off him, staring down at it. It was amazing how one piece of fabric could hold so many important memories.   
  
“It’s like Dumbledore said, isn’t it - to the well organised mind, death is but the next great adventure,” she said quietly.   
  
Fearing that if she hugged him again she would never let go, Lydia tried to smile at him but the muscles in her face seemed to have stopped working. With surprisingly calm hands, she opened the door of the office and tried not to focus on the wailing sobs she heard when the door closed behind her.   
  
Once she reached the end of the corridor, she pulled out the Marauders Map and pulled on the cloak, hoping that they would be able to get them from her once it was all done.   
  
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” More tears sprang to her eyes as she watched the map come to life. “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the  Marauders Map,” Lydia wondered what would happen if the school-age Marauders could see them now, if they could see how different everything had become.   
  
As though she was sneaking back to the Common Room as if out past curfew, Lydia scanned the map, making sure everyone was where they should be and quickly set off towards the forbidden forest. Walking through Hogwarts at this time was strange. And it wasn’t because she felt older than she had ever felt before, or because it was broken and crumbling; but because this was her home. She felt as though she had been born here, and now she was going to die.

Ahead of her, she saw Daphne slowly walking towards her and Lydia acted without thinking. She whipped the Cloak off and ran over to her.

“You’re handing yourself over, aren’t you?” Daphne said before Lydia could say anything, “I’m sure there’s some noble reason behind it? There usually is,”

“I- I have to. It’s the only way we can win,” Lydia said, her voice shaking slightly.

Daphne shook her head, “You really are the bravest person that I know,”

“Listen to me,” Lydia said, “After...after it happens, I don’t know how Harry, Ron and Hermione will react to it and I don’t want them to forget that they need to kill the snake,”

“What?” Daphne asked, frowning.

“The snake. Voldemort’s snake,” Lydia said hurriedly, “just make sure the snake is dead before you try and kill him, alright?”

Daphne nodded and for a few moments, they stood staring at each other. Their friendship was still new and quite strange, and Lydia felt as though she had never appreciated it before. She had never appreciated what it meant to have a friend in the Slytherin common room when everyone else had taken an immediate dislike to her.

“See you,” Lydia whispered, knowing she would never be able to put any of this into words. Pulling the Invisibility Cloak back over herself, she turned away from Daphne and carried on.

  
As she walked through the corridors, there was a distant echo of laughter and Ron, Hermione and Harry were walking besides her. Ron and Hermione were bickering about something unimportant whilst Harry sniggered at them. It was painfully clear that Ron had lost the argument but he was determined to win. Hermione, on the other hand, knew she had won the argument but wasn’t going to back down any time soon.   
  
George passed them and winked at her. She grinned back and carried on walking, diving out of the way as a group of Slytherins chased a Gryffindor down the corridor. Their hair had been dyed bright pink and their ears were the size of dinner plates. Ron and Hermione actually abandoned their argument to watch in amusement as the Slytherins fell to the floor, their ears now so big that they couldn’t move.   
  
They arrived outside and Lydia automatically turned in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. In the darkness, she could just about see the goal posts. She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. She could feel the wind whipping her hair and her robes as she raced for the goal posts, the Quaffle under her arm, she only had to beat the Keeper now and-   
  
She heard someone sniffle behind her and she turned around, holding onto the Invisibility Cloak. George was sat on the stone steps of the Entrance Hall, wiping his eyes. She was frozen in a trance, staring at him and trying her best to not think about how much pain she was probably going to put him through.   
  
“George? George? Oh, there you are,” it was Charlie. He looked tired as he dropped next to his brother and put his arm around him. “Everyone’s in the Great Hall-“   
  
“Have you seen Lydia?” George asked, his voice thick with tears. “she went to Dumbledore’s office with Harry but I’ve not seen her since,”   
  
Charlie stared at him with tears in his eyes.   
  
“Harry just told us, George,” he said quietly, “oh, I’m so sorry...but, she’s gone to Voldemort. She’s had to give herself up-“   
  
“NO!” George yelled. He jumped up and launched himself towards the Forbidden Forest, “LYDIA!”   
  
Charlie leapt up and dragged George back towards him. Lydia clapped her hands over her mouth and backed away from them. George fought against his brother, but Charlie managed to push him to the floor.   
  
“If you go after her, you’ll only make it harder for her,” Charlie said, “And he’ll just kill you too. Do you want to put mum and dad through that?”   
  
“I don’t have anything - not without them,” George sobbed.   
  
“George, listen to me. These next few months are going to be really hard, but you have to get through it. For them,” Charlie said. He hauled George up and put his arm around his shoulders, “come on. Let's get away from here,”   
  
Lydia watched as they walked away from her. And she had never felt so lonely in her life. The resurrection stone seemed to vibrate in her hands and, against her better judgement, she  turned it over in her hands three time and the forest around her lit up as if by a thousand Patronuses.   
  
Four people walked towards her: James Potter, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. They didn't look like the echoes that she and Harry had seen in the graveyard all those years ago, but real people. Lily was a little taller than Lydia. Her red hair was piled into a bun on top of her head with her wand in it, in the way that Lydia used to in school. She was smiling, albeit a little sadly. For the first time, Lydia truly understood why people always said that they had the same eyes. Sirius looked the same as he had done the last she had seen him, though a lot healthier. He had the same bright, mischievous grin and was still effortlessly handsome. James looked at her with more sadness in his eyes than the other two, perhaps it was because he had had the chance to get to know her and then it had been taken away from them. Remus looked the youngest she had ever seen him. There were no lines on his face and his robes did not look shabby at all.   
  
"You've been so brave, sweetheart," said Lily, holding out her hand. Lydia rushed forward and tried to take it, but she couldn't.   
  
"Does it hurt? Dying?" Lydia asked, wishing that she could have asked the question in a less childish way.   
  
"Quicker and easier than falling asleep," Sirius said, winking at her.   
  
"Why are you here?" Lydia asked.   
  
"We never left," James whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks.   
  
"I never wanted any of you to die for me. I never wanted this," Lydia cried, "And, Dad you'd got a second chance and-"   
  
"The two years I spent with you and Harry was better than I could have asked for," James said, "I wouldn't change it for the world,"   
  
“And, Remus, your son-“   
  
“Will know that his mother and father died so that he can live in a better world,” Remus said.   
  
"You'll stay with me?"   
  
"Until the end," Lily promised.   
  
"And he won't be able to see you?" Lydia asked.   
  
"No. We're here, you see." Sirius said, pointing at Lydia's heart.   
  
Pulling herself together and wiping the tears from her eyes, Lydia Potter straightened her back and walked through the Forbidden Forest, her path lit by her protectors. The Forest was the calmest and the quietest that Lydia had ever seen it. No creatures rustled in the bushes and there was no distant sound of Centaurs hooves in the distance.   
  
They finally came to a clearing. Lord Voldemort stood in the middle of it with his back to Lydia. His Death Eaters were stood around him, most of them looked bored. Lydia held her head higher and, with a jolt, realised that Hagrid was tied to a tree with Bellatrix stood next to him. She felt a sudden burst of anger and dropped the resurrection stone to the floor. James, Lily, Remus and Sirius disappeared from next to her and the clearing was bathed in darkness again.   
  
“My Lord...I don’t think they are coming.” One of the Death Eaters rasped.   
  
“I’m here.” Lydia said as loudly as she could. She stuck her wand back in her bun.   
  
“Lydia? No! What are yer doin’?” Hagrid roared, “Go back!”   
  
Lydia couldn’t bring herself at him. She realised that she had never told him how important he was to her, how much she appreciated him and everything that he had done for her over the years. Her heart breaking in two, she locked eyes with Voldemort who had now turned to face her. The more he looked at her, the more her scar hurt and the less she cared.   
  
“Where’s your brother?” Voldemort asked.   
  
“He’s back at the castle.” Lydia told him. “But forget him. I’m here.” She paused. “I’m not even going to fight back.” She held up her hands to show that her wand wasn’t in her hand. “Let’s get it over and done with, then.”   
  
Lord Voldemort regarded her for a moment. An image of Harry flashed to the front of her mind as there was a flash of green light and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazingly, I’ve had this chapter written for a while so it didn’t take as long to get up. 
> 
> Hope you’re still enjoying!


	33. Kings Cross Station

When Lydia awoke, she was alone.

She was lay flat on her back in a blindingly white place, mist covering the floor. She looked down at her hands and frowned, they were not cut or bruised or covered in dirt like they had been just moments before, but clean and unblemished. She could not even see the scars from Umbridge’s quills. There was not a single part of her that wanted to move of the floor, and she was more than happy to never move again. She could definitely make a life for herself here.

When she attended muggle primary school, they learned about heaven. Even at such a young age, and having already lost so much, Lydia had found it hard to believe that such a place of peace could actually exist. Now, at the age of seventeen, she couldn't even be bothered to entertain the idea.

But now she was confused for this was kind of place that people imagined their loved ones went when they died.

“Oh shit, I'm dead,” she muttered.

It took her a few minutes to work out what had exactly happened. It came rushing back to her soon enough. George’s sobs echoed through her mind, mixed up with Harry’s when they had hugged for the last time. She wondered what he was doing now. She hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't something stupid but then she remembered that this was her brother that she was thinking about, so he must have been doing something ridiculously stupid. She just hoped that it was being supervised by Hermione who would be able to talk some sense into him.

She squeezed her eyes shut and as she did so, she remembered the glow of Lord Voldemort's eyes as he looked at her. She remembered watching him raise his wand and cast the spell that had haunted her for years. Once again, the green flash of the Killing Curse seemed to engulf her very being and it was finally over.

Feeling as though someone had struck her in the chest with a hot iron, she pushed herself off the ground and looked around, only growing more confused because she was in Kings Cross Station. Except, it wasn't Kings Cross because it was too clean and she couldn't see any trains. There was no sounds of trains rushing down the tracks or frantic parents trying to keep an eye on their children as they ran riot. She needn’t worry about anything else anymore.

Her chest continued to throb and she looked down at it, pulling the neck of her t-shirt away from her, revealing a new scar. It was much bigger than any of the others she had and, like the one on her forehead, it was shaped like a lightning bolt. It ran from down the side of her neck and down her chest. Lord Voldemort really hadn't held back this time. She raised a hand to the scar on her forehead, but it did not seem to be there, confusing her further.

Slowly, she pushed herself off the floor and looked around, thinking she had never been in a stranger or more peaceful place. A low moan behind her caught her attention and she turned around, a scream almost escaping her lips when she saw what was lay on the floor. At first, she thought it was a child but it was too ugly to be anything slightly human.

“Lydia,”

She spun around, coming face to face with Albus Dumbledore. He looked exactly the way he had done in life; a long silver beard with hair to match and bright twinkly eyes. He smiled at her.

“You brave, brave woman,”

“What's that?” She asked, pointed at the childlike figure.

“You cannot help,” Dumbledore said, “and it is best that you do not try. Walk with me,”

Still slightly shell shocked by everything that had happened, Lydia fell into step beside Dumbledore, her hand subconsciously rubbing the new scar on the side of her neck. That was going to be a nightmare to hide when this was all over, she thought before stopping herself and reminding her that it was all over for her because she was dead.

“Where do you think we are, Lydia?” Dumbledore asked as they sat down on a bench.

“Well, it looks like Kings Cross Station,” Lydia said, looking around.

“Then that is where we are,”

Lydia frowned at him. Death had not changed Albus Dumbledore. He was still as confusing as ever.

“You understood the prophecy, yes?” he asked.

“Neither can live whilst the other survives,” Lydia recited, “it was about the Horcrux inside of me,”

“And you understand that Harry has to be the one to kill Voldemort?”

“No,” Lydia admitted.

“Harry and Voldemort are connected in a way that we can never understand. When Voldemort returned from the dead, it was Harry’s blood that was used. Their wands share the Phoenix feather core from the same Phoenix. Fawkes, to be exact,”

Lydia nodded. It was starting to make more sense.

“So...the Horcrux. It's gone,”

“Yes,”

Lydia nodded again.

“When did you realise it had to be me?”

“Your fifth year,”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“Because I was worried that you would kill yourself before Voldemort had the chance to,” Dumbledore said.

“Why didn't you just explain that to me?”

“I do believe that I was more than foolish in my lifetime,” Dumbledore said.

“Professor, am I dead?” Lydia asked, hoping that it wasn't a silly question.

“Not quite, Lydia,” Dumbledore replied, beaming.

Lydia pursed her lips, “but I didn't defend myself,”

“That's true,” he said, “but you do have a choice...”

He was being infuriatingly vague but was beaming as though he was the happiest man in the world.

“The Deathly Hallows,” she said suddenly and she was pleased to see that the smile was wiped off his face, “the Cloak of Invisibility, the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone. They are real, aren't they?”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, “Once again, I must admit that I was more than foolish in my lifetime. They are a fool’s dream, Lydia, a fool’s dream...I wanted to become the Master of Death, as though death is a thing that you could avoid,”

“I just avoided it,” Lydia pointed out.

“That is true,” Dumbledore said, nodding his head, “but it will come for us eventually. It always does. It was a silly thing to chase after. Does it make me any better than Voldemort in the long run? I think not,”

“Yes it does!” Lydia said, a little defensively, “you never killed anyone if you could avoid it,”

“Right again, Lydia, right again...” He sighed, “and yet, I fear I might have done if it meant I could get my hands on the Hallows. I had the Elder Wand, of course, and then when I saw your father's Invisibility Cloak for the first time, not only did it explain how he caused so much trouble during his time at school, but I knew that it was the other Deathly Hallow...

“And I wanted the Resurrection Stone to see my family again...to apologise...”

“There's nothing wrong with that,” Lydia said uncomfortably as Dumbledore wiped his eyes.

“I believe I told both you and Harry that it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live,” Dumbledore said quietly, still dabbing at his eyes.

They lapsed into silence again. Lydia looked up at the train platform and, for the first time, she saw a number: 9 3/4. She stared at it fo a while.

“Professor, the shape of Professor Snape’s Patronus,” Lydia said suddenly, “it's the same as my mothers,”

“Quite right,”

“It's curious, don't you think?”

Professor Dumbledore smiled at her, “I don't think it's curious at all, actually,”

Lydia had been in enough conversations with Dumbledore to know when one was over. They fell into silence again and Lydia stared down at her hands, fiddling with her ring. George screaming her name and trying to get to the forest seemed to be burned into her mind.

“Professor, can I ask you a question?”

“You have already asked me one but I will permit you to ask another,”

“The Horcrux inside of me...that's why I...that's why people think I'm a Dark Witch, isn't it? Because it had some control over me, like the locket with Ron?” Lydia asked.

Dumbledore did not answer right away, which did not make Lydia feel any better. Finally, he turned to look at her.

“Neither Horcrux ever had any control over you because you tend to shut your feelings off, unlike Ronald Weasley who has always been quite open with how he feels,” Dumbledore replied, “it is something that I noticed about you at school. When Sirius was killed and you came back to my office, Harry stood and let all of his feelings out, and yet you did not. Instead, you sat there with your father and I knew that you were mulling things over, waiting to say the right thing.

“When you were sorted into Slytherin after your brother had gone to Gryffindor, you did not cry. Any other eleven year old would have probably sobbed their way their first week, and yet you did not. Even after everything you went through, you very rarely showed how much it really hurt you. And even the Horcrux inside of you could not break down that barrier...until the time came for you to do things that some might consider unsavoury,”

“So it had control over me when I killed that Death Eater?” Lydia asked, assuming that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“No,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully, “I don't think it ever had control over you, because you're far too stubborn for that. I just think it might have pushed you in that direction. I don't think it would be wrong for me to say that perhaps it is something that you should take pride in,”

“I’m not proud for killing-”

“No, no, you misunderstand me,” Dumbledore said gently, “You should be proud that despite the fact that you like to keep up an occasionally cold personality, you love hard. There's very few people in the world like you,” he turned to her again and smiled, “You’re worried that you might become the next Voldemort,” it was not a question, but a statement. And a very true one at that.

“Yes,”

“You are nothing like Lord Voldemort for the simple fact that you have the ability to love. Lord Voldemort is a powerful, powerful man but you are still more powerful than him. Not because of magical ability, but because you can love and Harry can love. It is one thing that neither Tom Riddle nor Lord Voldemort could ever understand,”

They fell into silence again.

“The Elder Wand. Voldemort has it,”

“He does,”

“But...it isn't his, is it? And it was never Professor Snape's, either,” Lydia said, every thing suddenly making sense, “it's Harry’s,”

“Quite right, Lydia. Whilst Severus killed me, it was Draco Malfoy who disarmed me on the Astronomy Tower. And just a few weeks ago, Harry disarmed Draco Malfoy and thus became the owner of the Elder Wand. Though, I am not sure he is entirely aware of the fact,” Dumbledore said.

“I have to go back, dont I?” Lydia asked finally, “someone should tell Harry,”

“I believe that is up to you,”

“I don't know if I can face it...all those people died because of me,”

“Do not pity the dead, Lydia. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say goodbye for the present,”

“And if I stay?” Lydia asked.

Dumbledore stood up and pointed ahead of them. Four people materialised in front of her; Lily Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Lily was stood at the very front of the group, holding out her hand. The family that she should have had stood before her. Lydia jumped up and ran to her mother, this time, she was able to hold her hand.

“Mum...” Lydia breathed.

Lily smiled at her and gently placed a hand on her cheek, “you have been so brave Sweetheart, so, so brave,”

“You remember the magic that brought your father back, yes?” Dumbledore asked, slowly walking up behind them, “it has come into play again. You did a good thing, Lydia, and so you should be rewarded. Lily could return to the mortal world, to Harry, or you could go back. Your mother is more than willing to give up her second chance at life. A mother's love has no limit, after all,”

“You have to go back,” Lily said, “you have an entire life to live. Harry needs you. You know Potter men can't do anything on their own,” she took Lydia’s left hand and looked down at the ring that sat there and looked up, beaming, “George is waiting for you,”

These were the kinds of words of comfort from a mother that Lydia had always craved. Lydia looked up into the face of her mother, tears streaming down her face. Seeing her for the first time in the flesh seemed to have unlocked something in Lydia and she suddenly felt as though she could take on the world.

“Professor Dumbledore?”

“Yes, Lydia?”

“Is this real? Or is it just happening inside my head?”

“Of course it's happening inside your head, Lydia, but on earth should that mean it's not real?”

\---

Breath rushed back into her lungs and Lydia breathed in the smell of the Forbidden Forest. Every bone in her body was aching, every muscle was screaming at her for a rest but she did not care for she was alive. She could still feel her wand resting on her head and her glasses were digging into her face slightly. There was a slight cushioning effect near her stomach telling her that the Cloak was safely hidden out of sight. If she could somehow get it on...

The forest around her was deathly silent again. The only thing that told her that she was not alone was the sounds of Hagrid crying behind her. She had expected people to be cheering at the death of one of the Children who Lived, but there was nothing.

“Is the girl dead?” Voldemort asked finally.

Lydia frowned ever so slightly. The fact that Voldemort had not approached her himself told her that he was wary that she was not dead, which wasn't such a comforting thought. What would happen now? If he realised that she was not in fact dead, then she knew there was very little chance of defending herself

“You,” Voldemort said. There was a bang and a shriek of pain, “go and see if she is dead,”

Lydia could have cried at these words. There was no way out of this. In just a few seconds, he would know that he was alive and then it would be well and truly over. Softer hands than she was expecting pulled back one of her eyelids, checked for her pulse and felt for the steady beat of life through her chest. Soft hair tickled her face and Lydia opened her eyes just a fraction to see the pale face of Narcissa Malfoy looking down at her, her eyes wide with shock.

“Draco,” she whispered, bending closer so that no one could see her lips moving, “Draco, is he alive? Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Lydia breathed.

There was a pause that seemed to last an eternity and then Narcissa straightened up again and, through her eyelashes, Lydia watched her turn back around to Lord Voldemort.

“Dead,”

Now there were noises of jubilation. Immediately, Lydia felt the ground shake as the Death Eater’s jumped up and began to celebrate. The forest around them was lit by silver sparks being sent up into the sky and exploding like fireworks. Lydia wondered if they could see this up at the castle and hoped that they couldn't.

“You see?” screeched Voldemort, “Lydia Potter is dead yet my hand! Even her brother can not threaten me now! Crucio!”

Lydia had been expecting this. She knew that Voldemort would not have left her body untouched. She was lifted into the air and it took everything she had in her to remain limp, though she felt no pain. Her body was thrown into the air three more times and her wand almost flew out of her hair.

“Now,” said Voldemort, “we go to the castle and show what has become of her. But who shall drag the body - no, wait! Hagrid can carry her. She will be nice and visible there...come and pick up your little friend, now,”

She felt herself lifted off the floor again, though this time it was much more gentler. Keeping her body as limp as possible, she kept her eyes shut and tried to conceal he breathing as discreet as possible as the Death Eaters crowded around her and a sobbing Hagrid.

“Oh, Lydia, Lydia...” he sobbed, “this isn' right...it's not right...”

She just hoped that they had done enough to finally kill Voldemort.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I just realised that I don't actually know if I'm going to end this where Deathly Hallows ends or if I'm going to drag it on a bit more....we shall see, we shall see. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you're still enjoying! 
> 
> -E.


	34. The Elder Wand

The door of the Headmaster’s study swung shut behind his sister and Harry fell to the floor. He lay curled up there for what felt like hours, sobbing. It was not fair. She shouldn't have had to die. He felt a sudden rush of anger towards Dumbledore. Why had he never been upfront with them? Why had he never sat them down and explained exactly what was going to happen in their life? He knew every little detail about how to bring Voldemort down and yet he thought that his best bet was to just let them work it out? He had rested the fate of Wizarding World on the shoulders of two seventeen year olds without so much of a prod in the right direction. 

He finally pulled himself off the floor and turned to face the door, suddenly rooted to the spot. What was he going to tell people? What was he going to tell Ron and Hermione? What was he going to tell George? The happiest he had ever seen his sister was after he had not-quite proposed to her and Harry still remembered her telling him that George had asked her to the Yule Ball. She had tried to play it casual, but he could tell that she was beyond excited to go. 

Without realising it, he had walked all the way from the Headmaster’s office and down to the Entrance Hall. Hermione and Ron were sat on the stairs, not speaking and Harry knew that there was no way to avoid them. He gently tapped Ron on the shoulder and he turned around. 

“Harry! Where's - where's Lydia?” he asked, standing up and looking over his shoulder as though she was hiding behind her, “Is she...is she still in Dumbledore's office?” 

Hermione gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, tears cascading down her cheeks. 

“She's gone, hasn't she?” 

Harry nodded. 

Ron groaned and sank back down to the ground, his head in his hands. Hermione stood up and faced Harry, shaking her head.

“Why?”

“She had to,” Harry said, “It's the only way we could win,” he halfheartedly explained what had happened, though he didn't think that either Ron or Hermione were listening properly. Harry wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying.

Together, they walked into the Great Hall. The Weasleys descended on them almost immediately. George wasn't there, and Harry was not sure whether or not this was a good thing or not. 

“Where's Lydia?” Bill asked, “she hasn't - she hasn't gone to him, has she?” 

Once again, Harry nodded. Saying the word yes in response to this question made it feel too real. 

“I’ll go and find George,” Charlie whispered, “He needs to find out from someone who isn't Voldemort,” 

After a few minutes, being in the Hall with everyone got too much. Harry paced up and down outside the doors, news of what Lydia had done had quickly spread and Harry watched people react to it. Some were crying whilst others stared blankly at the walls. Ron and Hermione sat together, Hermione resting her head on his shoulder. The sight warmed Harry’s heart despite everything. Lydia had been right. It was about time. The other Weasley’s were sat together with the exception of George. He was sat on the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall, staring at the floor. Harry watched him for a few moments, wondering what on earth he was meant to say to him. Between losing Fred and Lydia, Harry wondered if he would ever be the same. Harry turned away from George and he saw Professor McGonagall stood in the doors of the Great Hall, her hands clasped in front of her. He knew that ever since Lydia had been sorted into Slytherin and became a bit of an outcast, McGonagall had had a soft spot for her. He turned around and found Draco. He was sat on his own, looking up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. It was a clear night and the stars shone down on them. Harry wondered if Lydia had stopped to appreciate the beautiful night sky before she had gone into the Forbidden Forest, or if she had just walked straight in with her head held high, focusing on nothing but her death. 

Neville came up behind him and put his arm around his shoulders. Neither of them said anything, they did not have to. Daphne Greengrass brushed past them, wiping tears from her eyes. Harry put his hand on her arm and stopped her.

“I'm sorry we were never friends in school,” he said, “but thank-you for being nice to her,” 

“I just saw her,” she whispered, “before she went. She said that we have to kill the snake,” 

Harry nodded, “I know. She knows I know that,”

“I know,” Daphne said, “I’m sorry, Harry, that you've lost her,” 

“Me too,” he said. 

Daphne walked away from them and George was back in his line of sight. Something in him told him he had to go and sit with him, to at least take on the impossible task of making him feel better.

“You should go and speak to him,” Neville said quietly.

Harry nodded and walked over to him. George did not look up immediately. He just sat there, sniffling until Harry finally spoke.

“You know, if she knew you were crying this much she’d probably tell you to blow off some steam by blowing something up. Or whatever it is you do,” Harry said quietly. 

“We were going to get married,” George said, “Fred was going to be my best man...” 

“I know,” Harry said, his voice breaking, “I wanted to walk her down the aisle,” he cleared his throat, “but, George, in all seriousness, I want to...I want to say thank you,” 

“What for?” 

“For making her so happy. For loving her so much,” Harry said, “and...and I'm sorry that it had to be this way. I wish I could change it,”

“Let's just make sure that they didn't die for nothing, yeah?” George said. 

Before Harry could reply, there was a searing pain in his scar and he yelled out, toppling down the steps. Quick as a flash, Ron and Hermione were next to him, pulling him up. Tears were falling over his cheeks before he could stop them and he felt as though he had lost a part of himself. He had lost a part of himself. 

“She's gone,” Harry gasped, “He did it. He killed Lydia,” 

Hermione burst into tears again. Ron did not react, perhaps he could not find it in himself to do so. Draco suddenly appeared at his shoulder, and Harry was shocked to see that there were tears in his eyes. 

“Harry, what's that?” He said, pointing out of the doors of the Entrance Hall. 

From the Forbidden Forest, Harry could see Voldemort walking towards them. Hagrid was walking behind him slightly, followed by the Death Eaters, but Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Without waiting for the others, Harry hurried outside and the great deal of footsteps behind him told him that everyone else had realised that something was happening. 

Lord Voldemort came to a halt a short distance away from them, flanked by his Death Eaters. Hagrid was stood with them, holding something in his arms and Harry’s heart dropped to his stomach. From where he was stood, he could just about see a mess of black hair and a scarred, limp hand on which a pearl ring sat. 

Lydia. 

McGonagall realised who Hagrid was holding and let out a loud cry. Ron was staring at Lydia, his mouth hanging open slightly. George took one look at Lydia and yelled out, dissolving into sobs again and clinging onto Percy for support. Draco gripped Harry's arm so tightly that it was beginning to hurt, but it only reminded him that he wasn’t as numb as he really felt. Bellatrix was cackling so loudly, that it seemed to echo around the grounds and Harry wanted nothing more than to hurt her as badly as he could. For Neville’s parents, for Sirius, for Dobby, for Lydia...

“Lydia Potter, your saving grace, was killed when she found running away from the battle. She was more than prepared to leave you all to perish,” Voldemort spoke in a clear, loud voice. “Now, join my ranks, or  _ die _ ,”

No one moved. 

“Come, Draco,” 

Harry looked over, Narcissa Malfoy was   holding out her hand towards him.

“Come on,” she said.

“No,” Malfoy said. “No,” he said again, this time louder, “I stand with Harry Potter. I already told you,” 

Then, even stranger, Neville walked forward, taking everyone by surprise. Harry grabbed Neville’s arm and tried to pull him back, but it was no use. 

“And who is this?” Voldemort asked. 

“It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The son of the Aurors!” Bellatrix cackled. 

“Ah, yes, I remember,” said Voldemort, looking Neville up and down, “You are Pure-Blood, are you not? I am sure you will make a valuable Death Eater soon enough,”

“I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” Neville spat, “and I want to say something. Lydia dying doesn't mean it's over. She'd want us to fight. She always wanted us to fight. She wanted us to fight for everything - love, tolerance, Dumbledore's Army...if we stop now, it would be an insult to her memory!” 

“You stupid boy!” Voldemort laughed, “Perhaps you can be an example to show what happens when you don't stand by me -  _ crucio!”  _ Neville screamed and became rigid, but he did not fall to the ground. It was like he was determined to stay stood upright, “And now,” Voldemort continued, “The school of Hogwarts will no longer have four houses, only one - Slytherin House!”

“If you did that, you'd be carrying on her legacy!” Harry yelled, “She was a Slytherin! And she fought against your stupid belief system every damn day she was at this school! Her Slytherin will live on!” 

“But you, will not.  _ Avada-” _

“LYDIA? WHERE'S LYDIA?” Hagrid suddenly yelled.

Harry looked around. His sister was nowhere to be seen. No one moved. Voldemort was still pointing his wand at Harry but even he had frozen. 

_ “ACCIO SORTING HAT!”  _ someone yelled.

Harry whirled around and laughed loudly for Lydia Potter was stood on a pile of debris, Invisibility Cloak in one hand and wand in the other. A fire seemed to be burning behind her eyes and Harry knew that Voldemort had no chance. 

Out of one of the smashed windows of the castle, the Sorting Hat soared through the air and landed in front of Neville. Harry watched in astonishment as Neville stooped down and pulled something out of it, something long and silver. In one swift, clean motion, Neville brought the sword down through the air and onto Nagini who had made a beeline towards him. The snakes head spun through the air and then landed on the ground, dead. 

Lord Voldemort was mortal once more. 

“GREAT HALL!” Harry roared. 

No one needed telling twice. There was a great scuffle as both friend and foe made their way into the castle. He looked around but Lydia was gone again - had he seen a ghost?

The Great Hall was buzzing with activity. Lord Voldemort was stood in the centre, duelling both Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall. Ron and Hermione were expertly taking on four Death Eaters at once whilst George and Lee Jordan rugby tackled Dolohov to the floor; Percy and Mr Weasley had brought Yaxley to his knees and Pius Thicknesse went down with a cry at the hands of Professor Flitwick. Neville took down Fenrir Greyback with the help of Luna and Peeves was flying overhead, dropping things onto the heads of Death Eaters. It was like nothing Harry had ever seen before, and yet he was scanning the room, trying to find Lydia. Maybe he had seen a ghost...

Suddenly, arms closed around his middle and dragged him out of the Great Hall. He spun around, his wand drawn and he found his sister, grinning broadly at him. 

“Lovely to see you too,” she said, moving his wand out of her face.

“L-Lydia,” he said, “you're alive!” 

“Yes, but that’s not important right now,” she said, “Listen to me, and this is really important - you're the owner of the Elder Wand. Draco was the one who had it after Dumbledore but then-”

“-I disarmed him!” Harry exclaimed, “which means that-”

“-Voldemort has never been so easy to kill,” Lydia said, “and it has to be you,” 

With Lydia back from the dead, Harry felt as though he could take on the world. Together, they ran back into the Great Hall just as Harry heard a cry. Bellatrix was duelling Ginny and was about to deliver the fatal spell. Harry roared and ran forward but Mrs Weasley beat him too it. She pushed Ginny out of the way and advanced on Bellatrix, looking more terrifying than Harry had ever seen her. 

“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!”

Harry watched in amazement as Mrs Weasley, the woman who Harry had become accustomed to seeing doing mundane task such as cooking, was duelling Bellatrix in the most violent way possible. Harry had never seen a duel like it. It was so terrifying, in fact, that the rest of the Hall actually stopped what they were doing to watch.

With one final push, Bellatrix fell to the floor, unmoving and Molly Weasley stepped back, a satisfied look on her face.

Voldemort ran towards Mrs Weasley but was stopped by Lydia running into the middle of the Hall, throwing everyone off guard. 

“Alright?” she said as though she was late to meeting them in Hogsmeade. 

“I killed you,” Voldemort said, “How are you here?” 

Lydia shrugged, “I guess it's a Potter thing. You try and kill us but then we just come back,” 

“It all ends here, Tom,” said Harry, walking forward. “It's between me and you,” 

“You dare call me that name?” Voldemort hissed, his red eyes full of contempt. 

“Yes, because that is who you are and who you will die as,” Harry was surprised to find that he was managing to maintain a calm voice.

“I will never die,” Voldemort spat. 

“You will. We got the Horcruxes, Tom. We worked it all out,” Harry smiled, “Lydia was the Horcrux you never meant to make. In killing her, you killed a part of yourself. You're as mortal as any of us now,” 

“That is not true,” Voldemort said, a look of cruel satisfaction spreading across his face, “because I have the Elder Wand. When I took the wand from Dumbledore's tomb and killed Snape, I became its true master,” 

“Not quite,” Harry said, “that's actually my wand you're holding, Tom. See, before Dumbledore was killed, Draco Malfoy disarmed him, and he became the true owner of the wand. Weeks ago, at Malfoy Manor, I disarmed Draco...so you're not the true master of the wand, I am,” 

Voldemort narrowed his slitted eyes at him, “but none of that matters now, I can deal with Draco Malfoy later, because you still cannot win,” 

“I actually can,” Harry replied, beginning to circle him, “because I have something on my side that you never have and never will,” 

“And what is that?” 

“Love,” Harry said simply, “you've never felt love, Tom, and I feel sorry for you. So why not try for a little remorse now? Have you ever felt remorse, for anything you've ever done?” 

Voldemort laughed that high, cold, cruel laugh. 

“Love?” He sneered, “you still believe in everything that old fool told you?” 

“Our mother sacrificed herself for us,” Lydia said, “And I just did the same thing. You can't hurt us anymore, Tom. We have love on our side. We always have,” 

And then there were two cries: 

_ “Avada Kadavra!”  _

_ “Expelliarmus!”  _

Harry was not sure how much time had passed. It could have been days for all he knew but finally, Tom Riddle’s wand flew into the air. His curse ricocheted off the wall and hit him in the chest, and then he fell to the floor with a mundane thump. Immediately, Harry turned around to face Lydia. There were a few silent seconds in which they stared at each other and then she threw her arms around him, sobbing. Around them, the Hall burst into applause and people were grabbing them, clapping them on the back and trying to get a glimpse of them in their moment of victory for, once again, they were the Children who Lived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!
> 
> Writing as Harry instead of Lydia was so strange to me and I kept on going to write Lydia’s name instead of Harry’s, so if you see any mistakes like that, do forgive me. 
> 
> I don’t really know where I’m going to go from here because I do want to carry it on, so I’m going to go and plan the next few chapters and see where that takes me. 
> 
> -E.


	35. Onwards and Upwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW//
> 
> Mentions of suicide.

Fred, Remus, Tonks and the other fifty that had fallen in the Battle were moved to a chamber off the Great Hall. Voldemort was put in a separate room with his fallen Death Eaters, though Lydia could not find it in herself to care about them or what they would eventually do with their bodies. 

Professor McGonagall had set the house tables up again but no one was sat according to house anymore and the sight warmed Lydia’s heart; Draco Malfoy was sat with Daphne, Ernie Macmillan and Luna at the Ravenclaw table. Urquhart was sat with Oliver Wood halfway down the Gryffindor Table whilst Neville sat at the end of the Slytherin table, still holding the Sword of Gryffindor and surrounded by admirers.

Lydia scanned the hall for Harry. He was sat with Mr Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt who had been announced as the temporary Minister for Magic. George was sat next to her, his head resting on her shoulder. They had not spoken much, neither of them had the energy to. The adrenaline rush of killing Voldemort had faded away and the reality had set in. Subconsciously, Lydia traced the new scar that started on the side of her neck and down to her chest. Already people had been whispering about it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about them or their words. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel her mother’s hands on her face, she could still hear her voice as though Lily Potter was stood right next to her still. And yet, she could still hear the explosion that killed Fred Weasley. She could still see the lifeless body of Remus and Tonks, could still feel the Killing Curse hitting her in the chest. 

But hope still blossomed in her heart for Lydia had a life promised to her. She would no longer have to walk through life glancing over her shoulder, expecting to see Lord Voldemort. She would no longer have to sit and wonder what would happen if he came for her, because he never would again. She was free. They all were. 

George sighed and took her hand in his, running his finger over her engagement ring. He still did not say anything and Lydia would not push him to. For the first time, they had all the time in the world and Lydia could see a life beyond the age of seventeen years old. 

“Lyds, can I speak to you?” It was Harry.

“Yeah,” Lydia said. 

“You’re gonna come back, aren’t you?” George asked quietly. 

“Of course I am,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. 

Harry held out his hand and he pulled to her to the feet. They walked out of the Great Hall to a smattering of applause. Harry gestured for Ron and Hermione to follow them, and they quickly joined them. 

Silently, they walked up to Dumbledore’s office. The previous Heads of Hogwarts were back in their frames and all burst into applause when they entered the room, though Phineas Nigellus might have done so grudgingly. Lydia only had eyes for Dumbledore though, who was smiling at them. 

“Sir, the Resurrection Stone...it’s somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. I should just leave it there, shouldn’t I?” Lydia said. 

Dumbledore nodded, “That would be the best thing for you to do,”

“And this,” Harry said, holding the Elder Wand up, “it’s done more harm than good, hasn't it?” 

“What are we going to do with it?” Ron asked, sounding awestruck.

“What are  _ we _ going to do with it?” Hermione asked, “it has nothing to do with us!”

“I know,” Ron said hurriedly, “but...but that’s the  _ Elder Wand _ ,” 

“I don’t want it,” Harry shrugged, “and I don’t think that anyone should have it,” he pulled out the broken remains of his old wand and gently tapped it,  _ “reparo,”  _ the two halves sprung back together, “this wand will just cause too much trouble, won’t it? And I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime,” 

Then, taking Lydia by surprise, Harry snapped it in half.

“The world is better off without it,” he said, “I’ll return it to your grave,” he added to Dumbledore, “but I’m keeping the Invisibility Cloak,” 

“But of course! It is yours, after all!” Dumbledore chortled.

Harry and Lydia did not return to the Great Hall straight away, and instead sat on the steps of the Entrance Hall, looking out into the grounds. Lydia could not take her eyes off the Forbidden Forest. Just hours ago, she had walked into the depths of the forest surrounded by her family. There was a time and a place to tell Harry everything that had happened, but it was not now. They had other things to focus on: the school would need to be rebuilt, the dead buried and the remaining Death Eaters taken to court. They needed to mourn and celebrate and learn how to live normal lives. 

“I’ve just realised something,” Harry said, “we’re homeless,” 

Lydia turned to Harry and, before she knew it, they had both burst into laughter. 

“We’ll work something out,” Lydia sighed, “we always do,”

—-

Lydia had done her best to be there for her George, but it was harder than she thought it would be. Every time she looked at him, he just looked defeated. There was no light behind his eyes and all colour had drained from his face. He could not face The Burrow or the flat that he had shared with Fred above the shop, and so was living with Lydia and Harry in James’ old apartment. Hermione was also staying with them, due to the fact that she was homeless and Ron spent most of his time there. 

Lydia and Harry had gone out of their way to attend every funeral of the Fallen Fifty, as they were now being called. All of them were the hardest things that Lydia had ever had to sit through. Colin Creevey's dad, a milkman, had been unable to do his eulogy and so fourteen year old Dennis Creevey took over, looking older than he should have ever had to. Lydia sat behind Parvati Patil at Lavender Brown's funeral and she could pay no attention to anything that was going on due to the fact that so overcome by grief, Parvati had half collapsed into her twin sister, sobbing. When Lydia sat down at the funeral of Professor Babbling, the first thing she saw was Professor Babbling’s husband holding their daughter, who couldn't have been older than five years old and Lydia could not take her eyes off the little girl who kept on shouting for her mummy. 

At the funeral of Remus and Tonks, Andromeda Tonks collapsed next to the headstone of her Daughter and Son-In-Law, sobbing. Lydia could do nothing but take little Teddy Lupin out of her hands and try to stop him from crying. The only lighthearted moment of the day was Teddy taking one look at Ron and then changing his hair to bright red and covering his face in freckles.

“I think that means he likes you,” Hermione whispered to him. 

The worst moment came for Lydia when she went home. She came home before the others, who had all became somewhat obsessed with Teddy. Lydia herself was obsessed with Teddy, but there was a nagging voice in her brain telling her to go home earlier, and she was very glad she did. She opened the door to the kitchen and a horrible sight met her eyes: George was stood over the kitchen sink, holding a knife to his wrist. 

_ “Expelliarmus!”  _ she said quickly, whipping her wand out.

The knife flew out of his hand and fell the floor with a clatter. George sighed and turned back around to face her. His face showed no emotion, and he was looking at her as though he couldn't really see her. 

“You should have just let me do it,” he said, no emotion in his voice. 

“No, I shouldn't,” she said, “what kind of person would I be if I let you do that?”

He did not reply. He just looked at her and then nodded, walking past her and going into the bedroom. With shaking hands, she placed her wand on the side and picked the knife up. She stood staring it at the moment and then placed it back in the kitchen drawer. Lydia had no idea what she was meant to do. 

The following week, Fred’s funeral was held at The Burrow. It was the last of the funerals and the one that Lydia had been dreading more than the others. They had all gone back to The Burrow the evening before, and it was like a completely different house. Mr and Mrs Weasley barely acknowledged anyone who came in or out and Bill and Fleur had taken over as the heads of the family. It was them who had greeted Lydia, Harry, Ron, Hermione and George at the door, and them who kept the house running. Mr and Mrs Weasley spent most of their time in the back garden sat side by side in silence.

Fred's coffin was in the sitting room. Lydia went out of her way to avoid going in and looking at him, instead choosing to stay in her room or helping Fleur in the kitchen. The inhabitants of the house had reached an unspoken agreement to not leave George on his own. Lydia had not told anyone about his near suicide attempt, and she did not plan on, but she knew that his family were worried about that very thing. 

Lydia sat at the kitchen table, a cup of water in front of her and stared out into the yard. Harry and George were throwing a Quaffle between them, though neither of them looked very happy to be doing it. Bill sat across from her, pushing food around his plate. Without warning, Lydia burst into tears and Bill jumped as though he had been stung. 

“Lydia!” Fleur exclaimed, sliding into the seat next to her, “come ‘ere! It eez OK!” 

“I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed, “I-it's not my place to c-cry, I know b-but-”

“Don't be ridiculous, Lydia,” Bill said, “Of course you can cry,” 

When Harry and George came back instead, Lydia furiously wiped her eyes so that George would not see her crying. Somehow, she felt as though him seeing her crying would not help. She wasn't sure that anything would help at this point. When he announced that he was going to bed, Lydia waited a few minutes before following him upstairs. Ron smiled at her as she passed him on the stairs, and it took all the energy in the world to smile back at him.

George was sat cross legged on his bed when she walked in, staring straight ahead at the bed that Fred used to sleep in. No one had touched it. No one really knew what to do with it. His eyes were blank and the bags underneath them were so deep that he looked as though he had applied makeup badly. She slowly shut the door bend her so not to startle him. Though, she didn’t think that he was entirely present, anyway.

Lydia changed into her pyjamas and took Fabio into her hands. When he came to stay at James’ apartment, George had taken Fabio with him and reunited him Lydia. She stroked the top of his head and crawled into bed, letting Fabio roll around between them. Still, George did not react to anything or even acknowledge that she was there. Not wanting to rush him into anything, Lydia pulled the covers over her and snuggled down into bed, praying that the next day would be as easy as it could.

“Lydia,” George said.

“Yeah?” 

There was another silence and Lydia thought that that might be the most that she could get out of him for a while. She closed her eyes again. 

“I think I want to die,”

Her eyes opened again and she looked up at him. He was looking down at her now, but his face and eyes were blank in a way that was quite unnerving. She had no idea what to say, and was terrified that her saying the wrong thing would send him over the edge.

“I wish you hadn't have stopped me,” he continued, “I don't think that I'm going to be a good person to be around from here on out,” 

Lydia sat up, looking at him. “Was I good person to be around at Shell Cottage? Was I a good person to be around last year?” 

Her questions were only met with silence, telling her everything. 

“Exactly,” she said, “I was a terrible person to be around. But you stayed with me. You're always a good person to be around, George, because you are you,” 

He didn't say anything that, he just picked Fabio up and placed him on his bedside table. He turned back round to Lydia, gently kissed her and then pulled the covers over his head, though Lydia did not think that he was sleeping. Lydia didn't sleep ether, she just rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of George breathing and wondering how on earth she was meant to get through any of this...how George was meant to get through any of this.

The morning came round quicker than she wanted to. George had finally fallen asleep and when Lydia nudged him, he just muttered something intelligible and pulled the covers further over his head. Deciding to leave him for a little while longer, Lydia pulled a jumper over her head and walked down to the kitchen.

It was a strange atmosphere. Mr Weasley was sat at the kitchen table, staring intently into the cup of coffee that was in front of him. Ron was stood at the sink, looking as though he did not know what to do with himself whilst Hermione stood next to him, feverently stirring two cups of tea and muttering under her breath. Ginny was sat next to Charlie, resting her head on his shoulder. Bill and Fleur were stood in the garden talking to the Minister who had been there for Dumbledore’s funeral, James funeral and their wedding. Lydia felt as though she was intruding on the Weasley’s grief and quickly made herself a cup of tea and blended into the background, watching everything pan out. 

Harry came down into the kitchen a few minutes later and accepted a cup of tea off Percy who was trying to distract himself by making copious amounts of tea. There were four cups of tea on the kitchen table that no one was going to drink. Harry looked around the kitchen and when he saw Lydia, he hurried over to her.

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

“Been better. You?”

He shrugged, “How’s George?”

“Also been better,” Lydia replied, tears springing to her eyes. 

Harry frowned at her. 

“What is it?” 

Lydia raised the cup to her lips in an attempt to hide the answer from the Weasley’s but she didn’t think that they were laying them any attention. 

“He told me he wanted to die,” she whispered. 

Harry put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She buried her head into his chest and let herself cry for a while. He did not say anything, but he did not have to. Just him being there made her feel better. She had never quite appreciated how lucky she was to have a twin until Fred’s death. Someone placed their hand on her back and she turned around to see Charlie, his eyes swimming with tears.

“Someone should go and wake up George,” he said, his voice shaking. 

“I’ll go,” Lydia said, wiping her eyes. 

Harry kissed the top of her head and she walked back upstairs. George was still asleep and it took her awhile to wake him up. Under any other circumstances, she would have just dumped a bucket of water on his head but she didn’t think that it would be appropriate or appreciated. 

“George,” She said, “Come on, you need to get up,” 

“Yeah, yeah...” he muttered and he almost sounded like himself.

“Seriously, Georgie,” she said. 

“I’m up,” he said, turning over to her and wrapping his blanket around him. He turned his wrists over and showed them to her, “Look, no suicide attempt,”

“That’s not funny, George,” 

“I’m not trying to be funny,” he said bluntly, “I’m just saying that I’ve not killed myself yet,”

“Don't say that,” Lydia said. 

He looked at her for a moment and then shrugged. Still with the blanket wrapped around him, he got out of bed and walked past her. Lydia stood frozen in the twins bedroom for a few moments, staring at the floor. There were footsteps behind her and she turned around expecting to find George back, but it was Hermione.

“Come on,” she said, “we need to start getting ready,”

Lydia stood in front of the full length mirror in Ginny and Hermione’s room, staring at herself. She obsessively smoothed down the black material, despite the fact that there was no creases in it. Ginny stood at the window and looked out into the garden where Percy was digging Fred’s grave. Hermione lead her away from the window and flicked her wand so that the curtains were drawn over the window. 

Unable to look at Ginny any longer, Lydia turned back to the mirror and almost winced. Despite being off the run for almost a month, she had still not regained all the weight that she had lost and looked quite gaunt. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. The day after the Battle of Hogwarts, she had stood in the girls bathroom and cut her hair back to shoulder length like it had been before. It was messy and uneven but that was how she felt. She brushed the hair off her neck and stared at the new jagged, lightning shaped scar that sat there and wished that it was winter so she could find the biggest jumper possible and cover up. 

Charlie knocked on the door and popped his head in. He looked very strange wearing such sombre robes. Lydia was used to him wearing something a little more extravagant. 

“Gin, do you...do you want come and say goodbye to him?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Ginny said, “I’ll be down in a minute,” 

Charlie nodded and then turned to Lydia and Hermione, “You two can come as well, if you want to see him,” 

Lydia and Hermione let Ginny go first, wanting the family to have their chance to say goodbye alone. The two of them sat together, unspeaking. Lydia had never wanted a day to end so quickly as this one. And yet, what was on the other side of this day terrified her. The moment Lord Voldemort had died, Lydia was excited about life but over a month after it all, she had realised how naive she had been. The evil might have been defeated, but it's effects still lingered and showed no sign of changing anytime soon. 

Harry and Ron walked into the room. Tears were already streaming down Ron's face and Lydia wasn't sure how long she could keep herself together. 

“Come on,” Harry said, “It's starting soon,” 

They went down into the living room which was more packed that Lydia had expected it to be. Lee Jordan was stood at Fred’s coffin with Oliver Wood. Mrs Weasley was sat in an armchair, quietly sobbing into a handkerchief whilst Ginny perched on the arm of the chair, her arms around her mother and tears falling thick and fast from her eyes. Angelina Johnson was stood behind Lee and Oliver, clinging onto Alicia Spinnet for support whilst Katie Spinnet rushed out of the room, her face in her hands. George was nowhere to be seen. 

Lee and Oliver walked away from the coffin and together, Lydia, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked up to the coffin. It took all the strength that Lydia possessed to look down into the coffin. She felt her hair stand on end and her her vision became blurry with tears. He looked peaceful. The injuries that he had sustained from the explosion had been hidden with the exception of a cut that ran underneath his jaw. The more Lydia stared at him, the worse she felt and yet something was rooting her to the spot, forcing her to stare at him. 

“Goodbye,” Ron said in a shaky whisper, “I'm gonna miss you,” 

Hermione did not say anything, she just put her hand on Fred's and then quickly left the room with Ron. Mrs Weasley and Ginny quickly left the room soon after but Lydia still did not move. Harry sighed and put his arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on his shoulder and yet she could still not take her eyes off Fred.

“See you later, mate,” Harry said. 

Lydia lightly touched Fred's hair and quickly drew her hand away, unable to look at him any longer. She turned to walk back out of the room only to find George stood in the doorway, tears cascading down his cheeks and dripping onto his robes. 

“I’ll be outside,” Harry said. 

George shoved his hands into his books and walked up to the coffin, shaking his head. 

“It's so unfair,” he said. 

“I know,” Lydia said, “I’m really sorry, George, I didn't want any of this to happen,” 

“I know you didn't, and I don't blame you,” he said, “still, people will be able to tell us apart now,” 

“Yeah...” Lydia said, “guess we will,” 

“You don't need to worry about me, Lyds, I'm not going to do something stupid,” he said, looking down at her, “I'll never actually do it,”

Lydia wished that she could find it in her heart to actually believe him. 

Ten minutes later, the coffin was shut and Lydia found her seat next to Harry and Hermione in the second row. Bill, Charlie, Ron, Mr Weasley, George and Percy carried the coffin. Lydia could not bare to look and instead stared straight ahead, focusing on an gnome in the distance. Tears sprang to her eyes again as she remembered Fred telling her about how he had stupefied a gnome to be the Angel on the Christmas tree. Christmas that year would be so difficult for everyone, she wasn't sure what she was going to do to celebrate. She wasn't even sure that she would be able to celebrate. 

“And now, a few words from Fred's twin, George,” the minister said after he had briefly spoken about Fred himself. 

“Well, the good news is, is that people will be able to tell the difference between me and Fred now. The only problem is that I wish people couldn't,” George said, “because most of my humour is based around being a twin...and I really miss him. I really, really do and I don't really know what I'm meant to do without him at this point,” he paused for a moment, biting his lip.

“Fred was always louder than me. He wasn't ever afraid to put himself out there and usually was the one to tell me that it didn't really matter how illegal our pranks were, because the funniness of them would cancel the illegality of them out,” he gave a feeble chuckle, “I always knew that that wasn't true but I thought, if I'm going to Azkaban, I'd rather go with him...” He looked up at the congregation, “and there's days when I'd rather go with him now, wherever he is,” 

George glanced up at the sky, “Fred was never scared of dying. Anyone who went to Hogwarts with him knows that he would do anything if it was a good laugh, much to the annoyance of poor Professor McGonagall who I'm sure would dread our Transfiguration lessons,” there was a few laughs, “No, Fred was afraid of not living. He was afraid of an office job and it’s mundane realities. And I think it's safe to say that Fred lived and did everything that he wanted to do. I just don't think that he would have wanted to leave us behind because I'm afraid of living without him. He was born first and I have never known a world without him until now. And it's that little bit darker and there's not nearly as much laughter, but it doesn't have to stay that way. I don't want it to stay that way because Fred wouldn't have wanted us all to be moping around, though he would have loved all the attention,” he wiped his eyes, “so, I think, really, we should just try and have as much fun as possible tonight, because it is what we would have wanted. And, Freddie, if you’re looking down on us, and I'm sure you are, I miss you, mate, I really do. And thank-you, for being the best brother and for occasionally taking detentions for me,”

He rolled up the parchment and walked back to the seat, his hand brushing the coffin as he went. Bill made a speech before the actual burial and then they watched in a heartbreaking silence as the coffin was lowered into the ground and the grave was closed up. The mourners slowly began to make their way back over to The Burrow. 

“Lydia, can you stay with me a minute?” George said staring down at the headstone.

“Yes, of course,” Lydia said, “I’ll be here,” 

At the bottom of the headstone, the words “Mischief Managed,” were engraved. Lydia felt herself smile at the words. It was a nice touch. 

Someone walked up behind her, gently touching her on the shoulder. She looked around and was shocked to see Draco Malfoy. She had not seen him since the Battle of Hogwarts. He looked as terrible as she felt.

“Draco,” she said, “I-I didn't think you'd come,” 

“I've not felt very welcome at the other funerals,” he said, “but I thought I should come and pay my respects to Fred,”

Lydia smiled at him and nodded her head, “So, what are your plans for the future?”

“I don't have any. I'm being put on trial for my connection to the Death Eaters. I don't actually think I have a future,” Draco sighed. 

“I want to come to the trial,” Lydia said suddenly, “I can speak on your behalf,” 

“Thank-you, Lydia,” he said, “I’ll see you around,” 

“Yeah, see you, Draco,” and she watched as he walked away from her before he Apparated away. 

Finally, George stood up from the headstone and turned to face her. He was no longer crying and just looked broken. Lydia held out her hand and he took it as they slowly walked back up to The Burrow. Before they could walk in, George stopped her. 

“I still want to get married, you know,” he said. 

Lydia nodded, “I do, too,” 

“It's just going to take a while,”

“It's OK, George, I know. We have a lot of things to work out first,”

He nodded at her and then smiled, “but onwards and upwards, yeah?” 

“Onwards and upwards,” Lydia agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for how truly depressing this chapter is, but I promise it won’t be constantly depressing. 
> 
> That’s a lie, it actually will be for a few chapters but what do you expect from kids who have just fought a war? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> -E.


	36. The Trials

Lydia had hoped that after the funerals, the reality of everything would hit her. It didn't. She cried, of course, and she felt an unrelenting guilt the moment that she woke up, but it still didn't hit her. For her entire life she had known loss. She had known what it was to have to accept that she would never see someone again. For her, nightmares were us apart of her night time routine, but people like George weren't used to them. Every night, he would wake up convinced that Bellatrix Lestrange was stood over him, threatening to kill him. He would wake up and see Fred or Voldemort stood in the corner of the room, and Lydia had no idea how to convince him that none of these people were really there because she had never coped with anything well.

Harry, Ron and Hermione spoke often of their nightmares. Harry said that his had changed from Cedric and the graveyard to snakes in Godric Hollow and Voldemort turning his wand on Lydia. Ron said that he used to dream about Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets and breaking into the Ministry in fifth year, but now he dreamed about Hermione's screams in Malfoy Manor and Fred's lifeless body. Hermione used to tell Lydia about the same dream she had about the Basilisk in second year, but now she dreamt about Malfoy Manor and Gringotts.

Lydia would just shrug her shoulders and say that her dreams hadn't changed. She still dreamed about Sirius and James being killed in front of her. She still saw Voldemort coming back from the dead after the Triwizard tournament and the feeling of the Cruciatus curse.

The first day of July meant the first day of Death Eater trials. Lydia was going to every single one in the hopes that seeing the faces of these people would make her realise that the Battle actually happened. So she, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and, surprisingly, George, went to the Ministry of Magic. Lydia had hoped that she would never have to step foot into the building again but as she walked through the Auditorium, she reminded herself that it was for a good cause.

Kingsley was waiting for them outside of the courtroom, his hands clasped behind his back. He had settled into his role as Minister for Magic quite well, though Lydia hadn't exactly been expecting him to be a terrible Minister. She wasn't sure she actually knew anyone who didn't treat him with the deepest of respect.

“Thank-you for coming,” he said, “When I wrote an asked you to come, I wasn't sure if you would,”

“It's the least we can do,” Harry said, “Who's on trial today?”

“This morning we’ve got Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood,” Kingsley replied, “And then this afternoon, Walden Macnair and Dolores Umbridge,”

“Dolores Umbridge?” Lydia exclaimed, “really?”

Kingsley smiled at her, “Yes. You and Harry might want to say a few words on what a monster she was to get things going quicker,”

“That won't be difficult,” Harry muttered, “my speciality is talking about how much of a monster she is,”

“That and Expelliarmus,” George said quietly, “Legend says it's the only spell that Harry Potter can do,”

Ron sniggered and Harry looked like he was going to argue back but instead just smiled slightly. It was the first proper joke that George had said for a while and Lydia looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. He looked at her and shrugged and then looked away again. Hermione squeezed her hand slightly and they followed Kingsley into the courtroom.

It was a massive, circular room with a domed ceiling. What looked like thousands of witches and wizards sat in stands that ran around the room stood up when Kingsley entered. He waved his hand slightly and they sat back down. In the middle of the room on a platform was two straight backed chairs with chains lay on the arms and around the legs. Directly facing the chairs was another raised platform on which a young witch sat. Lydia frowned at her, she looked vaguely familiar and gave off an impression of not being someone to get on the wrong side of. She had an angular face curtained with a mane of tawny hair and strangely yellow eyes. When her eyes fell on Lydia, she narrowed them and Lydia's automatic reaction was to reach for her wand, but Kingsley lead them to their seats next to Professor McGonagall, who Lydia was quite shocked to see. The witch did not look over at her again.

“Hello, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said when Lydia took the seat next to her.

“Professor McGonagall! I didn't think you'd be here,” Lydia said.

“I'm here to speak against the Carrows,” McGonagall replied.

“Bring in the Carrows,” the woman said and silence fell.

The doors opened and Lydia watched as Alecto and Amycus Carrow were brought in flanked by four Aurors. The Carrows sat in the chairs and the chains automatically come to life and bound them there.

“Hearing on the first of July nineteen ninety eight of Alecto and Amycus Carrow for ties to the Dark Lord during the Second Wizarding War. Interrogator: Adeline Clara Scrimgeour, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement-”

“Adeline Scrimgeour?” Hermione whispered, “she must have been related to-”

“Rufus Scrimgeour, yes,” Kingsley said, watching her, “she is his niece. This is her first day back at work since he was murdered by the Death Eaters,”

“Do they know who did it?” Ron asked.

Kingsley shook his head, “No, they just found his body with the Dark Mark over it. According to the people who work with her, she's obsessed with finding out who did it. She’s getting all the Aurors working overtime. It's no use though. They’ll never be able to find out who it was and chances are is that whoever did it is dead,”

The trial was over quickly. They had no Witness for defence and could say nothing to defend themselves. Professor McGonagall stood up halfway through to explain what they were like for the year they worked at Hogwarts and Lydia could tell that Adeline Scrimgeour took a lot of joy to sentencing them to life in Azkaban. The room burst into applause when they were lead out of the room, but Lydia did not join in. Them being arrested did not change a thing. It did not take away from the fact that they had tortured Neville all year or hung first years from the dungeons.

Walden Macnairs trial was over even quicker. So quick, in fact, that Lydia found it quite boring. Like the Carrows, Macnair was sentenced to life in Azkaban. Lydia watched him as he was lead out of the courtroom. She felt no sympathy for him as the doors swung shut behind him. She had not forgotten how violent he was.

When Augustus Rookwood came in for his trail, George immediately stood up and left the courtroom. Ron hurried out after him. Being faced with their brothers killer ended up being too much for the two of them and they did not return until after the trial was over.

Finally, it was time for the trial that had been playing on Lydia's mind all day. The doors opened and a hush fell over the room as Dolores Umbridge walked in. She did it at all look like the Dolores Umbridge that Lydia remembered. Her hair was lank and unkempt and she looked odd wearing black robes instead of her usual pink. Her eyes were trained on the floor and she did not even react when the chains bound her to the train, and Lydia was sure that she heard Professor McGonagall laugh slightly next to her.

“Dolores Jane Umbridge, you are accused of war crimes,” Adeline Scrimgeour said, “During the Second Wizarding War, you over saw the rounding up of Muggle Born witches and wizards and questioned whether or not they were truly witches and wizards,”

Umbridge did not say anything. Lydia smiled slightly.

“As a direct result of these Muggle Born hearings, many innocent witches and wizards were subjected to the Dementors kiss,” Adeline continued, “your defence?”

She cleared her throat slightly and finally looked up, “The I-Imperius C-Curse. I was put under the Imperius Curse,”

Adeline narrowed her eyes at Umbridge, “You have already told the Ministry this and yet you showed no sign of being under the Imperius Curse. In fact, there are many Ministry workers who swear that it was you who put them under the Imperius Curse and there is a lot of evidence to suggest that their claims are nothing but the truth,” Adeline shuffled some parchments in front of her, “I believe Harry and Lydia Potter have something to say here,” her eyes flickered over to them.

Kingsley nudged Lydia in the side and she quickly jumped up with Harry. There were some whispers amongst the witches and wizards as Lydia and Harry came into view. Then, they burst into applause and Lydia felt herself go red.

“Order!” Adeline barked over the sounds of applause, “this is not about them. This is about Dolores Umbridge. Harry, Lydia, your statements, please,”

Harry cleared his throat, “Dolores Umbridge taught us in our fifth year at Hogwarts. She did not allow us to use magic in class, despite the practical section of our O.W.L exam and, well, she never really taught us anything,” Lydia nodded along enthusiastically, “And at the end of fifth year, she admitted to sending Demenorts after me in an attempt to get me expelled from Hogwarts,”

“She also called us a liar for the majority of the year,” Lydia said, “Fifth year was the year after Lord Voldemort returned from the dead and instead of listening to what we and Professor Dumbledore was saying, she put us both in detentions that were nothing short of torturous,”

“Torturous?” Adeline inquired, “How so?”

“The quills that were used did not require ink for they wrote in the students blood and carved whatever they were writing into the back of their hands,” Professor McGonagall supplied, standing up again, “In Harry and Lydia’s case, these detentions could last the entire evening,”

“What did you have to write?” Adeline asked.

“I must not tell lies,” Harry replied, “and the scars are still there,”

“She was also extremely prejudiced against half-breeds,” Lydia said quickly, “Including Remus Lupin, Rubeus Hagrid and the Centaurs who live in the forest on the Hogwarts grounds,” she paused and looked around, “I just - I just thought that might be important,”

Adeline regarded her for a moment, “Thank-you for that,” she turned back to Dolores Umbridge, “Do you have any defence?”

“I was acting under orders from the Minister for Magic...Cornelius Fudge!” Umbridge said quickly, “I was - I was just d-doing my job!”

“Yes, we have already spoken and dealt with Cornelius Fudge,” Adeline said, “I sentence you to fifty years in Azkaban. Take her away,”

This time, Lydia actually joined in with the applause. She would have been much happier to see Umbridge sentenced to life, but from what she understood about Azkaban, she probably wouldn't last that long.

The courtroom started to empty, though many people stopped to shake Harry and Lydia's hands on their way out. Lydia wouldn't have minded so much if they didn't so obviously stare at the new scar whenever they spoke to her. George blended into the background as the conversations took place and she didn't blame him, it was exactly what she wanted to do.

Outside of the courtroom, Adeline Scrimgeour was waiting for them. She nodded curtly and Kingsley and then made a beeline for Lydia and Harry, both of whom tried to hide behind Ron at the exact same time so that they would not be noticed, but it did not quite work out in their favour. Between the two of them, they were terrible at meeting new people. Especially important people. Adeline either did not notice their weird behaviour or did not care about it for she shook both of their hands.

“I would first of all like to offer my congratulations on winning the war,” she said pompously, “and, of course, my condolences. You have both been through quite a lot,”

“Yeah, well, thanks,” Harry said.

“I must say I was surprised to see the two of you here. I didn't think you'd want to get involved with any more of this type of stuff,” Adeline said, her eyes lingering on Lydia's neck, “I don't think I'm wrong in saying that you both deserve a break. And a long one at that,”

“We want to be apart of it all,” Lydia said, “We’re the reason the war ever happened. It's only fair that we help but things back to normal,”

“How noble of you both,” she said stiffly, “You both knew my Uncle, didn't you? Rufus Scrimgeour,”

An uncomfortable silence fell between the three of them. Kingsley, who was stood behind Adeline, frowned slightly but did not say anything.

“Yeah, we knew him,” Harry said carefully, “We only ever met him a few times though,”

“And every time your conversations ended in argument,”

“We never agreed with the way he ran the Ministry,” Lydia said slowly.

Adeline narrowed her eyes at Lydia, “Could you have ran it any better?”

“I was too busy trying to kill Lord Voldemort,” Lydia said bluntly.

“You weren't always that eager though, were you?” Adeline hissed at her, taking her aback. “I think you’ll be interested to know that the Malfoy family are going to be on trial next week. You'll both want to attend, won't you?”

“Yes,” Harry said coldly, “Yes, we will. I think we’ll both be more than willing to defend them as well,”

“Very well,” Adeline said, “I shall see you both next week,” and she turned and walked away from them.

“She was...strange,” Ron said, frowning at her retreating back.

“I taught her at school,” McGonagall said, “she was in Ravenclaw. Astonishingly bright but had a reputation for being quite cold. It was very easy to tell if you were a friend or an enemy to Adeline Scrimgeour,” she shook her head, “Well, I have a meeting withstood builders. We’re still working to put Hogwarts back together. Good day,”

That evening, Hermione did her best to cook the best meal that she could and forced them all to sit in the living room together. No one felt like arguing with her because they would never win. Fabio rolled around on the floor, munching on the small plate of food that Hermione had made him. Lydia was starting to worry that he ate too much but, as Ron pointed out to her, he only looked fat because he was so fluffy.

“Sometimes I feel like he over indulges in potatoes though,” she said.

“Ron over indulges in potatoes and he's fine,” Harry pointed out.

“I think you need to watch out for Adeline Scrimgeour. Both of you,” Hermione said anxiously.

“Hermione, please, we’ve just gotten rid of-”

“I don't think she's going to be the next Voldemort,” Hermione said hurriedly, “but I don't think she's on your side. I think she might blame you for her uncle's death. He did die defending you both,”

Lydia looked away from her and instead focused on Fabio. The last thing Lydia needed was to start worrying about Adeline Scrimgeour. But, as always, Hermione had a point. There was no way that family members of the victims of Voldemort and his Death Eaters didn't harbour some sort of resentment towards her and Harry.

“I think she's strange,” Harry said finally.

“I thought she was like Lydia,” George said quietly.

“Yes, I did too,” Hermione said.

“They both just said your strange,” Ron sniggered.

“No, I mean what McGonagall said,” George said, “she had a reputation for being cold and it was easy to tell whether you were a friend or an enemy of her,” he glanced at Lydia, “that's what you were like in school,”

Lydia stared at him, affronted. “I was not like - oh no, actually you're right,”

Harry stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork, looking quite thoughtful.

“I just don't think it's something we need to worry about,” Harry said, “we’re probably never going to see her again after all the trials, anyway,”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, standing up, “I've had enough to worry about for a lifetime,”

\---

On the morning of the Malfoy's trials, Lydia woke up early. George was fast asleep next to her. The only time he ever looked peaceful was when he was asleep. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend that she was looking at him before everything happened. Before Fred died, before he had been tortured by Bellatrix, before he had lost an ear...before everything.

“Are you staring at me?” George mumbled, “I know I'm handsome but you're taking the mick a bit,”

Lydia smiled. First thing in the morning when George was still falling in and out of sleep was her favourite time of day. It was the one time of day when he was still himself and couldn't quite remember everything that had happened in the last few months. It was these moments that made Lydia want to get up in the morning.

“Get over yourself. You're not that cute,”

“No, I'm not,” he agreed, “I'm a lot cuter,”

She rolled her eyes and got out of bed. Ron and Hermione were sat on the balcony, drinking cups of tea. Lydia smiled at the sight of them. It really had taken them long enough to sort themselves out. Lydia glanced into the living room, expecting to find Harry but he was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Lydia walked back to her bedroom and looked in, thinking that he might have been talking to George, but he wasn't there. George gave a great snore and burrowed deeper underneath the covers.

“Harry?” Lydia called softly, “Are you still in bed? Because you really need to get-”

“Here,” he answered.

The bathroom door opened and Lydia hesitantly walked in. Harry was sat on the edge of the bath, staring at his hands, though Lydia could see the tears streaming down his face and she knew at once who they were for. Slowly, she shut the door behind her and sat next to him. He didn't say anything at first. He just stared at his hands, sniffling slightly.

“Come on, what's up?” Lydia asked, putting her arm around him.

“It's just - I don't know,” he said, “Everything is so hard. I didn't think that I'd struggle this much after everything...I was stupid and thought that it would all be easy afterwards. No more Voldemort, no more Horcruxes...”

“I know,” Lydia said quietly.

“And I can't stop thinking about him,” Harry said, kicking the wall, “I miss him, everyday. I didn't let myself think about him when we were on the run, even when he was with us but now...now he's back and I - I don't...” he groaned and ran a hand through his hair, “I know that neither of us are in any place to be in a relationship...but then I think about Ginny and...and...”

“Harry, you need to chill out,”

“I can't!” He exclaimed, “I really can't...because I know that people expect me to be with Ginny because I shouldn't be with a guy but then Draco makes me really happy!”

“Harry, at this point you should do whatever the hell you want. You saved the wizarding world,” Lydia said.

“It’s just hard,” Harry sighed.

“I know. But it’ll get easier. It has to,”

Back at the Ministry, Lydia nervously shuffled around in her seat. Talking in front of a large group of people in defence of three Death Eaters was not Lydia's idea of a good time. It was a shame that Draco turned out to be such a good person, or else she wouldn't have to be there.

Harry made a strange strangled noise at the back of his throat when the Malfoy's walked in together. The three of them looked terrible; their hair was messy and lank, they had all lost a lot of weight and their skin looked more grey than it’s usual pale. Narcissa looked at the floor as she walked over to the chair but Lucius stood with his back straight, staring ahead of him. Draco turned around and quickly glanced at Lydia, Harry, Ron, Hermione and George before turning to face Adeline again. She was looking particularly stern.

“Hearing on July the seventh nineteen ninety eight, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Narcissa Druella Malfoy and Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are accused of being Death Eaters during the Second Wizarding War. Interrogator: Adeline Clara Scrimgeour, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Adeline began. She looked over the three Malfoys, “We’ll start with Malfoy Senior. Sir, the wand you are using is not the wand you bought at the age of eleven years old, is it?”

“No,” Lucius replied, “No, it is not,”

“And that is because you gave your wand to He Who Must Not Be Named, yes?”

“I - I yes, I did,” Lucius, “He asked for it last July,”

“Why is that?” Adeline asked, “Why did he ask for a wand when he already had one himself?”

“He never said why...he just said that he understood something better, and that he needed a different wand to kill Harry and Lydia Potter,”

People began to mutter in the stands. Some people shook their heads at him in disgust whilst others just glared. Lydia looked at Adeline who as wearing a look of utter contempt on her face.

“So, you happily gave up your wand in the full knowledge that it might eventually lead to the deaths of two teenagers?” Adeline said.

“N-not happily, no, I did not give it up happily...” Lucius stammered, “The Dark Lord...you did not know him. He was not - he was not known for his mercy. I could say nothing else in that moment or he would have killed me,”

Adeline raised her eyebrows, “Of course not. Though, some people would rather die than help the Dark Lord,” Lydia knew that she was thinking about her uncle. “Unless, of course, your allegiance lay fully with him?”

Lucius had no rebuttal. Adeline smiled at him and then turned to Narcissa Malfoy who finally looked up from the ground and held her head high.

“Now, I understand that unlike your husband and son, you do not have the Dark Mark?”

Narcissa shook her head.

“But He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did stay in your house for a time? He did hold meetings there?” Adeline said.

“He did, yes,” Narcissa replied, “but that was beyond my control-”

“Was it?” Adeline asked, “or did you just roll over and let him do what he wanted?”

Narcissa swallowed, “My sister, Bellatrix, was the most devoted supporter...I could not...I could not...”

Adeline narrowed her eyes, “You have another sister, do you not? Andromeda Tonks? She did not follow along with your sister. She married a muggle-born, did she not?”

“Well, yes, she did but-”

“But what? If Andromeda managed to get away from your family and it’s ideals, why could you not?” Adeline asked.

Narcissa cleared her throat slightly and sat up in the chair slightly, “By this time I was already engaged to Lucius. There was no way out of for me,”

“Wait!” Lydia exclaimed suddenly, jumping, “can I say something?”

Adeline very obviously sighed, “Go on, Miss Potter,”

“After Voldemort killed me - well, no he didn't kill me but he tried - um, you know what I mean, when he thought I was dead but I wasn't, um -” she was aware that everyone was staring at her as she stumbled over her words, “Listen, they thought I was dead, right? But Voldemort wanted to go and make sure that I definitely was and he sent Narcissa. When she realised that I wasn't alive, she didn't tell him. She pretended that I was dead and lied right to Lord Voldemort's face. If it weren't for her lying, I would be dead right now. I don't believe that Narcissa Malfoy was ever a true supporter of Voldemort,”

“Thank-you for that, Miss Potter, but please refrain from using the You Know Who’s name in my court. It leaves people feeling quite unsettled,” Adeline said, gesturing for her to sit down.

“Smooth,” Harry muttered in her ear.

“Shut up,”

“Now, Draco Malfoy,” Adeline turned to him, “you were given the task of killing Albus Dumbledore. That shows you were regarded as a high ranking member of the Death Eaters. Moreover, you did aid in helping many Death Eaters break into Hogwarts castle which resulted in the death of James Potter. Do you deny any of these claims?”

Draco took a deep breath.

“I do not,”

Harry cleared his throat and stood up. Adeline sighed and gestured for him to start talking.

“I was on the Astronomy Tower the night Snape killed Dumbledore. When Draco got there, he was unable to kill him. When Dumbledore offered him help, he almost took it but then the Death Eaters got into the tower,” Harry said a lot calmer than Lydia did, “I don't think that Draco was ever a true Death Eater. He didn't have anymore of a choice to support Voldemort than I did to go after him,”

Adeline nodded and then turned back to the Malfoys. Harry sat back down. He was shaking slightly.

“You held captors at your Manor, did you not?” She asked, addressing the Malfoys at large, “In fact, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, George Weasley, Luna Lovegood and many more were held at your manor,”

“It was the Dark Lord's orders,” Lucius said, “We had no choice,”

“But you tortured them,” Adeline continued, “I know for a fact that George Weasley, Hermione Granger and Lydia Potter were tortured at your residence,”

“That was Bellatrix Lestrange,” Lydia said quickly.

George cleared his throat and stood up, “Uh, hi, when I was - when I was there, Draco always stopped them from torturing me. He convinced them that I didn't know anything. And he looked after Luna whilst she was there, too. He also helped us escape,”

Lydia quickly stood up, “If it weren't for Draco I wouldn't have been able to get to them. He put his life on the line to get us out of that house. And, in front of Voldemort himself, Draco said that he stood by Harry and I,”

“Forgive me, Miss Potter, but I find it difficult to believe a girl who has been accused of being a Dark Witch before,” Adelina said.

“I died for-”

“Don't!” Hermione moaned.

“No!” Lydia exclaimed, “she can't just accuse me of being a Dark Witch! I died for-”

“I have a question for you three,” Adeline said loudly, speaking over her, “Do any of you believe that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater? Mr Potter?”

“No.”

“Mr Weasley - George, I mean,”

“Draco Malfoy isn't a Death Eater,”

“Mr Weasley?”

“No,”

“Miss Granger. You are a Muggle Born. Draco Malfoy had said some abhorrent things to you during the time you have known him. Do you think that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater?”

“He said some horrible things to me whilst we were at school, yes, but he didn't know any better. He helped us break into Gringotts and was willing to die by our side. Draco Malfoy is as much of a Death Eater than I am,”

Adeline nodded and then conferred with the witches and wizards that were on either side of her.

“Fine,” Adeline said, sounding resigned, “Lucius Malfoy - I sentence you to...six months in Azkaban. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy...I sentence you both to a probation period of a year. You must help rebuild Hogwarts starting tomorrow. Draco, you will complete your seventh year at Hogwarts and Narcissa, you will volunteer at St Mungo’s for a year. Done,”

Next to her, Harry let out a sigh of relief as he watched the Malfoys be lead out of the room. Before any of them could even consider leaving, Adeline called for order again. Lydia turned around in interest, wondering what on earth she could want.

“I'm placing Lydia Potter under arrest,”

“You're what?” Lydia asked. She turned around to the others, “What did she just say? Did she just say she's arresting me?”

“I think so,” Ron said, frowning, “Nah, she won't mean you. There's another Lydia Potter somewhere who she means,”

“Did no one hear me?” Adeline shouted.

One of the Aurors stepped forward, clearing his throat.

“I'm sorry, Madam Scrimgeour, but are you asking us to arrest Lydia Potter?”

“I'm placing Lydia Potter under arrest,” Adeline repeated through gritted teeth, “for ties to Dark Magic!”

“Are you joking?” Harry asked.

“No,” Adeline said simply, “Aurors, arrest her, please!”

No one moved. The Witches and Wizards sat along the walls began to mutter to each other again. Lydia looked at George whose eyes were wide. She couldn't leave him alone. Not now. Harry, Ron and Hermione were staring at her in disbelief.

“Fine,” Lydia snapped, “Fine! Arrest me! It's not like I helped save the Wizarding World or anything, is it?” She shoved past Ron and Hermione and stomped down to the Aurors who were still looking at her as though they weren't quite sure of what to do.

“Are you serious?” George asked furiously, “she died for people like you!”

“Yes, Mr Weasley, and she came back from the dead which makes very little sense and I can only assume that Dark Magic played a part in her coming back!” Adeline snapped, “Take her out of my courtroom, please,”

And Lydia had no choice but to let the Aurors lead her out of the courtroom, wondering if she would ever catch a break.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I already hate/love Adeline Scrimgeour. Also trying my best to not turn her into Umbridge.
> 
> -E.


	37. The Trial of Lydia Potter

George Weasley woke up on May 3rd feeling like half of him was missing. Then he realised that half of him was missing. He had fallen asleep sat up in the corner of the Great Hall. Lydia was was curled up next to him, her head resting in his lap. He stroked her hair and looked ahead of him, thinking back to simpler times.   
  
He closed his eyes and he was back on the train in his second year. Fred had spotted two first years struggling to get on the train and they had gone to help them.   
  
“Blimey!” Fred whispered to George, “that was the Children who Lived!” 

  
George looked back onto the train and sure enough, it was them. He laughed lightly.    
  
“I didn’t know they were the same age as Ron,”    
  
They quickly got distracted by the rumour of Lee having a tarantula and George paid the Children Who Lived no more attention until the Sorting Ceremony. Harry Potter getting sorted into Gryffindor perhaps wasn’t much of a surprise. Lydia Potter getting sorted into Slytherin was the biggest surprise he could think of.    
  
He watched as she walked over to the Slytherin table, trembling slightly and sat down. When Ron got sorted into Gryffindor, she clapped louder than anyone else. George caught her eye and waved, feeling quite sorry for her. She waved back and a smile stayed on her face for the rest of the feast.    
  
In his fifth year, when he was meant to be worrying about his OWLs, he was thinking about Lydia Potter and how she could very well die that year. Fred, on the other hand, was sure that she wasn’t going to die.    
  
“If You-Know-Who can’t kill them, no one can,” Fred said, shrugging. He noticed the look on his brothers face and rolled his eyes. “Merlin's Beard, Georgie, just ask her out!”    
  
When he watched her fight that dragon, he thought that he might be falling in love. She seemed to be an expert at it: hitting the dragon in the eye with a conjunctivitis curse whilst protecting the other eggs - something even Viktor Krum hadn’t been able to do. And then she got the egg and it was over and no one seemed to know what to do with themselves.    
  
“Hey! Lydia!” He was running after her as she made her way back from a Care of Magical Creatures lesson and he had just been in Herbology.    
  
“Oh, hi, George,” she said, smiling up at him, “I think you have soil in your hair,” she stood on her tiptoes and shook it out of his hair for him. He felt himself going red.   
  
“I, uh, I just wanted to say well done on that dragon.”    
  
She looked slightly taken aback.    
  
“Oh, thanks. Yeah. I’m not dead. It’s a miracle,”    
  
“Yeah, uh-“ he was about to ask her out but something stopped him and instead he just said, “well, good luck on the next task!” And he hurried off, feeling quite stupid.    
  
Behind him, someone laughed and he turned around to find Fred.    
  
“Oh, Georgie, you need to sort yourself out,”    
  
The Yule Ball was approaching. George was beginning to panic because he still hadn’t asked Lydia to go with him, and according to Ginny, no one else had.    
  
“You just need to go and do it. She’ll say yes,” Ginny said bracingly.    
  
“What if she doesn’t say yes?”    
  
“Then she says no,” Fred said, “there isn’t really an in between - there she is, why don’t you ask now? Get it out of the way?” Without waiting for an answer, Fred called her over.    
  
She came over to them, looking quite wary.    
  
“I’m not putting anymore dung bombs in the Slytherin common room. I have to stay there too,”   
  
“No, we were just talking about the Yule Ball. Have you been asked yet?” Ginny asked.    
  
She laughed, “No. I think the Slytherin thing might be putting people off. Or it might just be me. I don’t know. Why?”    
  
“Because we’re trying to work out who to go with,” Ginny said, looking at George who wanted the ground to swallow him up, “Fred’s the only one who’s got a date. He’s going with Angelina,”    
  
“I’m sure you two will find someone,” Lydia said. She looked at George and smiled, “anyway, I better go, I’ve got loads of stuff to catch up on,”   
  
Two weeks later, George was stood in the Entrance Hall, panicking. Amazingly, Lydia had actually said yes to going to the ball with him and now he had to open the ball with her. He was starting to wish that he hadn’t told her that he was a good dancer because he was quite sure it was a complete lie.    
  
Fred nudged him. “Here she is,”    
  
George suddenly forgot how to breathe as Lydia walked up from the dungeons. She was wearing silver dress robes that billowed around her as she walked. Her hair was still as messy as ever, but pulled out of her face. She smiled at him sheepishly and he thought that he might collapse.    
  
When he entered his sixth year, he had seen Lydia have to grow up in ways she shouldn’t have had to. He tried to focus on the joke shop, but he worried about her too much. She tried to plaster a smile onto her face when she left the Gryffindor table to go to another detention with Umbridge but came back defeated and with a bloody hand. But what he saw of her in DA meetings was inspiring: there was a fire in her eyes that spurred them all on. She was already an expert dueller and a fantastic teacher. She and Harry were the first teachers that Fred ever listened to properly. Even McGonagall struggled to keep him attentive sometimes.    
  
“I can’t do it!” Neville protested as Lydia taught them Patronus charms. “Nothings happening!”    
  
Lydia gently put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.    
  
“You need to think of a happy memory,” Lydia told him, “and it might not be an obviously happy memory,”    
  
George stopped what he was doing to listen with interest.    
  
“For example,” she continued, “the memory I think of is when I woke up in the hospital wing after Voldemort came back.”    
  
Neville gave her a quizzical look.    
  
“It’s not necessarily happy because I don’t want him to be back, but it’s a happy memory because I realised how many people I had on my side - Harry, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, Mr and Mrs Weasley, George...even Snape - watch,” she held up her wand, “Expecto Patronus!” A doe burst from the end of her wand and sauntered around the room.    
  
“See?” She said, “it doesn’t have to be a memory of laughter. It can be anything,”    
  
That night, Fred received an owl telling them that they had finally got premises for the joke shop and George felt as though he could have produced the best Patronus in the world.    
  
George remembered the previous summer after Dumbledore and James had died. He was in the back of the shop on his break, flicking through the Daily Prophet. He glanced down and looked at the marriage announcements and almost fell off his chair when he realised that he wanted to marry Lydia.    
  
The door of the back room opened and Fred walked in, stretching.   
  
“Off you go. I’m on my break now,” he said, “but watch out there’s some Hogwarts students who-“

  
“I’m going to marry Lydia,”    
  
“You what?”    
  
“I’m going to marry Lydia,” he said firmly. “Me and Lydia. We’re going to get married,”   
  
“Is she aware of this?”    
  
“No,”   
  
Fred nodded and looked like he was on the verge of laughing.    
  
“Well, Georgie, I’m no expert on marriage but I do think you have to ask someone if they actually want to marry you or not...like, legally have to ask,”   
  
“I’ll do it on her birthday then,” he said, “enjoy your break,”   
  
And now that wedding seemed unreachable. On the day before Lydia’s trial, he stretched his hand out to the other side of the bed even though he knew she wasn’t there. It had been a week since she’d been arrested and he’d barely slept since. He sighed and sat up, looking around the room. James really had a done a good job of decorating it, he thought to himself as he looked at the pictures. His eyes lingered for a moment on a picture of him, Fred and Lydia laughing on a sunny day some day before the last Triwizard Tournament task. The three of them looked so young and carefree and now...

Tears were falling down his cheeks before he could stop them and he walked backwards to the bed. He looked over at Lydia’s bedside table and saw a framed picture he had never seen before. It was a picture from last Christmas at The Burrow of Lydia, George, Harry and James. The more he looked at it, the more it looked like a wedding picture for they were all wearing dress robes and Lydia was in white. George stared at it, transfixed. Things could have ended up so differently. 

There was a knock on the door and George hastily wiped his eyes.

“What?” he called.

Ron walked in. His hair was a mess and he looked as though he had barely slept. George reckoned that none of them had slept since her arrest. He wondered if this was how Remus had felt when Sirius had been arrested. There were so many people he needed to talk to, but every single one of them seemed unreachable. 

“Kingsley just sent an owl,” Ron said, “we can go and visit her today,”

George perked up, “where is she? She’s not in Azkaban, is she?”

Ron shook his head, “No, Kingsley managed to convince Scrimgeour to keep her in a cell at the Ministry. Don’t think it’s much better but...” he trailed off, “but she’ll be dealing better than if she was in Azkaban,”

“Yeah, right,” he said, standing up, “When are we going?” 

“As soon as we’re ready. Hermione is currently running around trying to find every book she has on Magical Law to make a case for her,” Ron said, a dreamy look coming over his face.

George smirked.

“Aw, Ronald, you’re in love,” George said in a faux simpering tone.

“Shut up!” 

“You’ll be planning your wedding soon. Don’t get married before me though,” he added. 

Ron smiled at me, “I know better than to ever get married before Lydia. She’s already told me I’m wearing blue,” 

“Yeah, providing she’s not in Azkaban,”

Ron sighed, “she won’t be, mate. She’ll get off, I’m sure. She’s got the Minister of Magic on her side.” 

George wished that he could believe him, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that she might get sentenced to Azkaban. When he got dressed and walked into the living room with Ron, he found Hermione pouring over a pile of books and Harry pacing up and down, an untouched cup of tea in his hand. 

“There’s literally no way she can be sentenced!” Hermione exclaimed suddenly, causing George to spill milk everywhere, “Sorry George - there’s no way! She helped save the Wizarding World from Voldemort! There’s no better defence than that!”

“That’s true but Scrimgeour seems to have it out for her,” Harry said, “and I don’t understand why. If she hates Lydia, shouldn’t she hate me as well?” 

“She probably does, Harry, but let’s face it, Lydia is a lot easier to dislike than you are,” Hermione said, “not that I think she’s dislikeable!” she added hurriedly, “but to people who don’t know her...she can speak to snakes, she’s in Slytherin, she’s never been afraid to kill-“

“But we were fighting a war-“

“-we understand that, but Adeline Scrimgeour won’t necessarily,” Hermione said, “when she’s being questioned, she just needs to keep her head on straight and not be snarky,” 

“Yeah, and there’s no chance of that happening, is there?” George said sarcastically. 

They Floo’d straight into Kingsley’s office. Under any other circumstances, George would have probably stopped to admire how amazing the Ministers office was but could not bring himself to care for all he was thinking about was Lydia. Kingsley clearly sensed this and lead them down to where the cells were. He noticed people staring at them but after knowing both Lydia and Harry for so long, he had stopped caring about it. 

“Have you seen her?” Harry asked anxiously. 

Kingsley nodded, “Yes. I went down to the holding cells as soon as I heard what Adeline had done,”

“And?” 

“She’s fine. She’s quite angry though,” 

“Can’t blame her,” Hermione muttered as they entered the elevator and it began to descend, “Do you think she’ll get off?” 

“I can’t see why she wouldn’t. The Wizengamot will vote on it and I’m sure all of them are on her side,” Kingsley said thoughtfully, “Adeline Scrimgeour is ruthless though. From what I’ve heard, she blames Lydia for her uncles death,” 

“Why?” Ron asked. 

“Because she was never as much of a supporter of Dumbledore as Harry was, was she? So in Adelines eyes, she should have sided with the Ministry and for some reason, she doesn’t think that the Death Eaters would have gone after Rufus Scrimgeour if Lydia was protecting him,” 

“She mustn’t know the Death Eaters very well then,” George muttered. 

“She wasn’t in work for a lot of the war,” Kingsley shrugged, “And I don’t know how much attention she paid to the news,” the elevator dinged, “here we are,” 

They were in a dimly lit corridor lined with heavy looking doors. Guards patrolled up and all nodded curtly when they saw Kingsley. He lead them to the very end of the corridor and gestured for one of the guards to open the door, but he stopped with his wand hovering over the lock. 

“I have orders for Madam Scrimgeour to not let her have any visitors,” 

“What?” Kingsley exclaimed, “she has not been charged! She still has the right to visitation!” 

“Her words not mine,” the guard said quickly. 

“Open it anyway, I don’t care,” said Kingsley dismissively, “This is her family. She should be able to see them,” 

The guard paused again, “Sir, Madam Scrimgeour is Head of my department and-“

“-and I’m Minister for Magic. Open the door. I’ll make sure she doesn’t hear about this,” 

The guard glowered at him for a moment and then waved his wand at the door opened. George walked in hesitantly and looked around, feeling another rush of anger towards Scrimgeour. The room was tiny and had one bed in the corner onto  which a patch of sunlight shone through a tiny window. Lydia was sat cross legged on the bed, her hands clasped on her lap and her head resting back against the wall. 

“Lydia,” Harry said. 

Her eyes shot open and she jumped off the bed, throwing her arms around his neck. When she saw the others, she let out a scream and hugged them too. George thought that she looked ill and frail, and not at all how she usually looked. Her scars seemed to be showing up bolder than before and the bags under her eyes had gotten deeper.

“Are you OK?” George asked. 

“Oh, yeah, I'm great. This is exactly how I wanted to wind down after the war,” Lydia said. 

Hermione glared at her and Lydia cracked a smile. 

“Please, ‘Mione, I've just been arrested, can I not have one sarcastic comment?” Lydia asked.

“No,” Hermione said, “You need to be careful tomorrow. Scrimgeour isn't going to treat you well if you're not respectful to her,”

“She arrested me!” Lydia snapped, “for saving her and everyone else from the Dark Lord! I going to find it really difficult to be respectful to her!”

“Yeah, this is the girl who told Lord Voldemort to fuck off,” Harry interjected. 

“You told who to do what now?” Ron asked, his mouth hanging open. 

Lydia pursed her lips, “that was nearly four years ago!” 

“Hermione is right, Lydia,” Kingsley said, “Adeline wants to feel like she's doing something to avenge her uncle's death...even if it means locking you up for a months. I've already said it to this lot, but she is ruthless. You need to play it carefully tomorrow,” 

“I always play it carefully,” 

“You broke out of Gringotts on the back of a dragon,” 

“Yeah, but I did it carefully,” 

\--- 

On the morning of Lydia's trial, George awoke not out of nerves (though they did eventually come with the force of a thousand suns) but because there was a great deal of noise coming from the living room. Wondering how on earth Harry, Ron and Hermione could be making so much noise, he pulled himself out of bed and went to investigate. At first, George was sure that he had walked into a Dumbledore's Army meeting; Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Dennis Creevey and Lee Jordan were stood in the living room. There was a knock on the door and Hermione jumped up and ran to the front door, squealing at the sight of whoever was there. George turned around just as Daphne Greengrass and Orville Urquhart walked in looking quite sheepish.

“What's going on?” George asked. 

“They're all here for Lydia,” Ron said, squeezing over to him, “Harry only wrote to Neville who then brought in everyone else,”

“I can't speak on her behalf,” Harry said, “and neither can you, but these lot can. I think Ron and Hermione will be able to,”

George glanced at Luna, “Is Luna speaking?” 

Harry grinned at him, “Hermione's plan is that if things start going south, we’re just going to get Luna speaking about Nargles or something and then hope for the best,”

Back at the Ministry in the courtroom, George sat in between Harry and Hermione. Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn sat behind them. The room was deathly silent. The Wizengamot around the walls all seemed to be staring down at the solitary figure of Adeline Scrimgeour who seemed completely unaware of the fact that the whole room disliked her to some degree or other.

The doors opened and Lydia walked in, lead by two Aurors. She did not look over at them, instead staring straight ahead at Adeline. When she sat down in the chair, the chains did not bind her and George felt himself begin to calm down. Things couldn't be that bad if she was trusted enough to not try and run away. Though, George thought to himself, there was no guarantee that she wouldn't try and walk away. 

Adeline cleared her throat and, if possible, the room became even more still. 

“Hearing on July the fifteenth, nineteen ninety eight, Lydia Lily Potter, you are accused of the practice of Dark Magic and being a Dark Witch. Interrogator: Adeline Clara Scrimgeour, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” she looked over at Lydia and smiled slightly, “So, I assume you deny being a Dark Witch?”

“Obviously,” Lydia replied.

Next to him, Hermione groaned slightly. George couldn't see this going very well.

“You say obviously but...you must understand where the concern comes from?” Adeline said, “I mean, you are a very peculiar witch. First of all, you're one of only two people to survive the Killing Curse-”

“Which Harry and I explained to the Ministry-”

“-you can speak to snakes-”

“-could speak to snakes,” Lydia corrected, “can't anymore,” 

“-and, when you went to Hogwarts, you were sorted into Slytherin House,” Adeline said, talking over her, “and you must know its reputation,” 

“I do,” Lydia said, “and I know it has a reputation for turning out Dark Wizards but I am not one of them,” 

Adeline narrowed her eyes at Lydia and George knew that she didn't believe anything that she had just said. He glanced sideways at Harry who had his head in his hands. On his other side, Hermione had tears of anger in her eyes. He was starting to think that perhaps Luna should start speaking now. 

“In school, people thought you opened the Chamber of Secrets. Why?” Scrimgeour asked.

“Because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was walking down a corridor with Harry, Ron and Hermione when we found a message written by the Heir of Slytherin written on the wall,” Lydia explained calmly, “and the caretakers cat was petrified. I wasn't the Heir of Slytherin and I did not open the Chamber of Secrets. Lord Voldemort did,” 

“I have already told you to not use that name in my courtroom,” Adeline hissed. 

“Why does it matter? He's not going to come for us. He's dead, remember?” Lydia said, “and who helped kill him? Oh yeah, me,” 

There were sniggers around the room. Even Harry managed to laugh a little bit. Adeline did not react to the laughter, she just carried on glaring at Lydia who George was thrilled to see wasn't breaking the gaze. Even Hermione was smiling slightly. The Wizengamot seemed to be on Lydia's side and that was all that mattered, really. Adeline Scrimgeour would not matter in the end. 

“OK then, Miss Potter, let's talk about your use of magic,” Adeline said, “You're an expert dueller, are you not?” 

“I mean...I can get by in a duel-”

“Amongst the Death Eaters, you were known as the ‘Potter kid who'd kill if she had to’” Adeline said, “In fact, at the end of your sixth year, you killed a Death Eater, didn't you?” 

“Yes,” Lydia said stiffly. 

“And...the way you killed him. Do you want to explain to the court how you did it?”

Lydia shifted in her chair slightly but did not look away from Adeline. Finally, she spoke. 

“No, I don't,” Lydia said, “because I’d think you'd get a lot more joy out of it,” 

Adeline smiled slightly. 

“You broke a number of his bones using  _ Deprimo  _ and then finished the job with  _ Bombarda Maxima _ ,”

There was a loud gasp around the room as people took this news in. George shook his head at Adeline. She wasn't there. She hadn't been fighting Death Eaters. She hadn't just watched her dad die in front of her. She had no idea about  _ anything.  _ He looked back over at Lydia and fear seemed to flicker over her face for a moment and his heart sank.

“I don't deny that,” Lydia said, and George could tell that she was using her next words wisely, “But you need to understand that Hogwarts was under siege. I had no idea where Harry was. I had no idea where any of my friends were and I was terrified. And I'd just seen my dad die in front of me and - and,” her voice wavered but then became a lot stronger, “the one thing that people seem to forget about Slytherin house, and the one thing that you have certainly forgotten, is that we value loyalty and friendships and I really don't appreciate it when people come for those who I love,”

One witch in the corner of the room actually burst into applause at this little speech. Lydia jumped slightly and looked over at her, looking as though she wasn't sure as to whether or not she should thank her or not. Adeline barked at her to shut up and then turned back to Lydia who looked a lot more relaxed again. George could still not work out whether or not this was going in her favour and he was quite sure that Harry was now having a panic attack. Hermione was muttering underneath her breath. 

Adeline narrowed her eyes and looked down at the parchment in front of her, “Apparently Neville Longbottom has something to say?”

Neville stood up, “Yes. I went to school with Lydia and there is no way that she's a Dark Witch. She stood up for people who couldn't stand up for themselves. She used to defend Muggle Borns when people were horrible to them. And she's a really good friend. Honestly, she's one of the nicest people that I have ever met,”

“That's all well and good but, Miss Potter, a body was discovered near the Lovegood residence,” Adeline said, “and it showed signs of being harmed by Dark Magic. You were the one who attacked him. Do you deny this?”

“No,” Lydia said, “I don't. There was a Death Eater who was about to attack me so I attacked him first,” 

“But you used Dark Magic, why?” 

“It - it wasn't Dark Magic,” Lydia said, “it just wasn't  _ nice  _ magic,” 

“Miss Potter, I don't think you understand-”

“No,” Lydia snapped, “I don't think you understand,”

“Oh, Lyds, be quiet...” Hermione moaned. 

“Excuse me?” Adeline asked. 

“I apologise, Madam Scrimgeour, but have you ever fought in a war? Have you ever duelled knowing that only one of you are meant to come out of the other side?” 

Adeline did not answer.

“I was fighting a war, Madam Scrimgeour, I did what I had to do,”

“See, and here's what confuses me about the war,” Adeline said, “There is no denying that you played a hand in winning it, and I thank you for that, however, you weren't always so eager on trying to kill the Dark Lord, were you?”

“Um, no, I wasn't,” Lydia answered. 

“Why is that? Were you a secret ally?” 

Lydia scoffed, “You have got to be kidding! He killed my entire family! I didn't want to go after him because I didn't fancy dying!” 

“Can I say something?” Hermione asked also standing up. 

Adeline rolled her eyes, “If you must,” 

“In our fifth year, Lydia and Harry lead Dumbledore's Army which was  _ against  _ Lord Voldemort. Moreover, if she was an ally of his, then she would not be friends with the likes of me. I am a Mudblood, after all,”

“Don't use that word,” Adeline snapped. 

“But that is what I am. Mudblood and proud, in fact!” 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and stood up, casting a wary look at Hermione.

“Can I speak on what you said about her not wanting to go after the Dark lord? Lydia's sixth year was extremely difficult for a number of reasons. During this time, she did not want to go after You Know Who but what sixteen year old girl would? And yet, at the end of the school year, she still went after him, knowing that she might not come out of the other end,”

“And yet she did die,” Adeline pestered, “but she is here talking to me now, alive. How?” 

George watched as Lydia seemed to become frozen. She had never spoken about what happened in the forest and no one had ever asked. They had all reached an unspoken agreement to give her time to wrap her own head around what happened before she spoke about anything to anyone. Harry half stood up, but McGonagall grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down to his seat. 

“I asked you a question,” Adeline said, “How are you not dead? Surely there must be some sort of Dark Magic involved?” 

“I - I don't want to e-explain,” Lydia's voice broke, “I'm not r-ready,” 

“Miss Potter, this is not a question of your  _ readiness,”  _ Adeline snapped, “tell me what happened,” 

“F-fine,” Lydia said, “I walked into the Forbidden Forest and let him kill me. After that, I woke up in a place that I thought was Kings Cross Station and then Professor Dumbledore was there. And we had a conversation about...about stuff,”

“Stuff?” Adeline queried, “would you like to expand on what ‘stuff’ is?” 

Lydia took a deep, shaky breath.

“We just...we just talked about why Harry had to be the one to kill Voldemort. And then...and then...” Lydia suddenly burst into tears. It was the first time she looked away from Adeline. Finally, she looked up. “And then I saw my mum,”

George turned to look at Harry who had suddenly gone very pale. 

“You saw...your mother?” Adeline asked, a hint of scepticism in her voice, “your dead mother?” 

“Yes,” Lydia replied, “she told me that I had to g-go back. So I did,” 

Adeline frowned at her, “My dear, your mother could not have told you anything-”

“You can't prove she didn't,” Lydia said, “I spoke to my mother. I know I did. She was stood right in front of m-me,” and she dissolved into sobs again. 

“What did you speak about?” Adeline asked. 

“That's enough,” Kingsley said suddenly, “She is in no state to speak about what happened after Voldemort killed her and, quite frankly, I find it ridiculous that we had to have this hearing in the first place. You've heard what she's had to say, you've heard what the others have had to say, just take it to a vote so the poor girl can go home. She's done enough for us,” 

“C-can I speak?” A small voice asked.

George turned around to see a shaking Dennis Creevey slowly standing up, his hand in the air. Adeline frowned at him for a moment but then nodded. 

“And you are?”

“D-Dennis Creevey,” he replied, “A-and, I just want to say that Lydia couldn't be a Dark Witch or like You Know Who b-because if she was, she wouldn't have come to all the funerals of everyone who died! My b-brother was killed in the Battle of H-Hogwarts and she came to the funeral! And I k-know that - I k-know that she went to every single one! You-Know-Who w-wouldn't do that!” 

“Thank-you, Mr Creevey,” Adeline said, “you may sit down now,”

Lydia still had not looked up from the ground and George wanted nothing more than to just go and hold her. He wasn't sure that he had ever seen her cry so much. Adeline watched her for a few moment. 

“OK,” she said, “We’ll take it to a vote. Those who think Lydia Potter is a Dark Witch, raise your hand,”

George held his breath as he looked around the room. Not one person raised their hand. He quickly looked back over at Adeline who was gripping the edge of her desk so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. 

“Those who think she is innocent?” 

Every person in the court raised their hands.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Harry breathed, clutching his chest as tears rolled down his cheeks, “she's fine, she's fine, she's fine,” 

“Cleared of all charges,” Adeline said, though she said it as though it was the hardest thing she had ever had to say. 

The entire room burst into applause. Lydia still did not move from the chair. She was still sobbing and George leapt up at once, jumping from the stands and running over to her. Harry, Ron and Hermione were close behind him. He crouched down in front of her. 

“Hey, hey, Lydia! Lyds! It's OK, it's OK, you're cleared of all charges,” he said, trying to lift her head, “Lydia, look at me, you're OK, youre OK,”

She looked up at him. She had stopped crying but her face looked unnervingly blank. 

“Yeah, I'm OK. I'm OK,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> This was a slightly longer chapter than usual but I hope you don’t mind. I’m really excited to get all the chapters out!! 
> 
> And, thank you for all the kudos and lovely comments, it really means a lot! 
> 
> -E.


	38. Starting Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// 
> 
> Brief mention of suicide

Lydia wanted nothing more than to be alone. For the week that she had been at the Ministry, she had longed for the company of others. Now that she had it, however, she wished for solitude. They had not spoken about the trial. In fact, they had acted as though it had never happened and Lydia was grateful for that. Her mother played on her mind for most of the day and she only ever got a break at night when the nightmares came. A small part of her had hoped that being forced to talk about what happened in the Forest would awaken feelings about the Battle that were clearly locked very deep down, and yet it still didn't hit her.

In the dead of night when all that could be heard was the sound of George snoring, Fabio squeaking and the sounds of Owls hooting in the distance, Lydia would stare at the ceiling and force herself to think about the Battle of Hogwarts. She forced herself to remember the sound of the explosion that killed Fred and Remus and Tonks lying motionless on the floor. She thought long and hard about Lord Voldemort and the look on his face when he raised his wand to kill her. She thought about it all. And it still didn't hit her.

There seemed to be a mental block in her brain protecting her from whatever she was feeling about the war. Harry, Ron, Hermione and George had all started going to therapy organised by Kingsley, but Lydia could not bring herself to go. She knew that it would either end in her trying to kill herself or the therapist. Neither made her look like she was mentally stable. Then again, she probably wasn't mentally stable.

George rolled over in his sleep and his arm flopped down over Lydia's stomach. She lay and stared at him for a while, thinking. When she had come home and found him in the kitchen with a knife to his wrist, she could not understand how on earth someone could do something like that but then she remembered that there were times in her life where she was more than willing to do something like that. After all, she had only been fifteen when she told Dumbledore that she would rather off herself than go after Voldemort. A sudden memory forced itself to the front of Lydia's mind. She was sat in James’ office after that awful argument with Harry and he had shouted something about killing Voldemort to avenge their mum.

“If your way of avenging mums death is to try and kill the man who killed her, fine. But I want to stay alive for her. She died for us, Harry, the last thing I want to do is make that sacrifice worthless,”

James turned to look at her.

“Lydia, you and Harry living one more week would have been enough for your mother,”

“I'm starting to think it would have been enough for me,”

The memory slowly fizzled away and Lydia frowned. She probably should have gotten help a long time ago if she could say such things so flippantly. No, she told herself firmly, you know what's best for yourself and if you go to therapy it'll only make it worse. You're perfectly fine the way you are.

The next morning, Lydia's plans of retreating to her room and not coming out unless for food were ruined by the arrival of four owls. A familiar brown envelope dropped onto Lydia's lap as she ate her cereal and she immediately knew what it was. Suddenly feeling as though she was eleven again and opening her Hogwarts letter for the first time, Lydia quickly opened it and picked the first piece of parchment up.

“Dear Miss Potter,

The Hogwarts castle will be fully repaired by August 25th, allowing us to officially reopen the school on September 1st. Of course, I, and the rest of the faculty members at school, acknowledge the hardships that you and your fellow students went through in what should have been your final year at Hogwarts and completely understand if you do not wish to return to redo your seventh year.

If you would like to come back, however, we will once again accept you with open arms. Your return to the school might not be an easy one, so I would like to invite you to come one day early on August 31st.

Should you come back to school, I await your owl by no later than August 30th so I can arrange for cars to take you straight to school so you can avoid the Hogwarts Express.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall.  
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,”

Lydia stared down at the letter. She had never even thought about going to back to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year. She looked over at Harry, Ron and Hermione who all seemed to be thinking the same thing. Hermione dropped McGonagall’s letter and picked up the book list, going through it all. Returning to Hogwarts would be too much for them, surely?

“I want to go back,” Harry said finally.

Lydia looked at him, “Really?”

“Yeah. I want to make better memories at Hogwarts,” he said, “Instead of...instead of everything else,”

“I agree,” Hermione said, putting the booklist down.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “I think we should go back,”

“Guess I'm going back to school then,” Lydia muttered.

After a highly depressing eighteenth birthday in which Hermione forced them to leave the flat for a meal in a nice Muggle restaurant, August 31st came around a lot faster than Lydia had wanted it to. It was only when she looked over the balcony and saw the Ministry cars pull up that she realised she actually didn't want to go back to school. She had only said yes because the others had. And she was quite sure that the others had only said yes because Harry suggested it in the first place. Still, she thought to herself, I can always drop out. She also didn't want to leave George alone.

“I can look after myself,” he said to her after she said she probably shouldn't go back.

“I know but-”

“Listen, I'll be fine. I'm re-opening the shop and Charlie's coming to stay with me. I'll be fine. I'll come and see you when I can,”

The cars pulled up outside Hogwarts station and it still didn't hit her. When they walked up the path towards the castle, it still didn't hit her. Hermione had taken one look at Hogwarts and burst into tears. Harry seemed unable to look up from the floor and Ron had gone very pale. Lydia clenched her jaw, held her trunk tighter and dragged it up the steps of the Entrance Hall. She glanced behind her at the Forbidden Forest, hoping that it would awaken something inside her but it didn't. If anything, she just felt more numb.

Neville was waiting for them in the Entrance Hall. The doors of the Great Hall had been thrown open and Lydia could see people milling about intisde. Through the gaps of people, she could just about see the spot where Harry had finally killed Voldemort but felt nothing. She hung back slightly as Harry, Ron and Hermione greeted Neville. She looked at the door that lead to the dungeons and, for a moment, she was just a normal Hogwarts students getting ready for another normal year.

“Hey, Lydia,” Neville said, hugging her.

“Hi, Nev,” Lydia smiled, “How are you?”

“Getting there,” he said, “it's weird being back,”

She followed him into the Great Hall. Everyone, including the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, seemed to be sat at the Gryffindor table. At the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode sat alone. Lydia gestured for them to join the Gryffindor table. Everyone except Daphne and Draco seemed glued to their seats. They both stood up and walked over to the table, sitting next to Harry and Hermione. Harry's eyes lingered on Draco for a moment but then he turned to face the front where Professor McGonagall was stood.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts,” she said, “It does not escape me that this year might be a little bit hard than the others have been so the fact that you are here really does mean a lot to myself and the rest of the staff,”

McGonagall gestured behind her and Lydia looked to see who was there. It looked completely empty with the absences of Professor Babbling and Professor Snape. Lydia's eyes swept the table once more and she realised that Hagrid was not there either. Perhaps he had not been able to face coming back to school. Or maybe he was just not due to arrive until the next day. Lydia didn't actually know if Hagrid lived on the Hogwarts grounds during the summer. It must get boring if he did.

“Since you should have left last year, we have created a new common room for you,” McGonagall continued and there was a murmur of interest, “despite your differing houses, you will all live together. If anything, past events have made me realise that house unity is more important than ever and I trust you all to put aside any old arguments that you might have had,” her eyes came to rest on Harry and Draco and Lydia bit back a life. She had no idea how well rested their old arguments really were.

“The new common room is in the North Tower, underneath the tapestry of Wendelin the Weird. If any of you ever paid any attention in History of Magic, you will remember that she was the witch who enjoyed being burned at the stake so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty seven times,” there were some sniggers and even McGonagall smiled slightly, “To enter the common room, you must perform a simple fire making spell and she will let you in. Just try not to burn the castle down. We really have been through enough,”

“Do you think that was directed at me?” Seamus Finnigan muttered down the table.

“There was also the issue of Head Boy and Girl that needed tackling. Usually, I would have chosen two seventh year students but, this year, I thought that two people here deserved it more than anyone - Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger,”

Lydia whooped and started applauding as the two of them went bright red; she agreed with McGonagall. Hermione had been a model student since the moment she had stepped foot in the castle and Neville was nothing less than a hero. She still found it hard to believe that that the terrified boy she met in her first year was the same person sat across from her now. Neville himself probably wouldn't be able to believe the change.

Harry's hand shot into the air once the applause had died down, “Sorry, Professor, I was just wondering what was happening with Quidditch because-”

“Quidditch is going to be a little bit different this year, Potter, I'll tell you closer to the time,” McGonagall said dismissively, “Now, we may eat,”

After a quite subdued lunch in which people gloomily exchanged tales of what they did over their break (Lydia was very vague about what she had done despite knowing that everyone probably already knew) they made their way towards the North Tower. Having never taken Divination, Lydia had never actually been in this part of the castle and knowing what Professor Trelawney was like from Harry and Ron, she had gone out of her way to avoid going near her classroom.

It was strange walking through the silent halls of Hogwarts. The last time any of them had been there, they were ducking under Killing Curses and throwing everything they had in them at Death Eaters. Some people, like Ernie Macmillan, had taken to talking very loudly as though to distract themselves from the memories of the Battle. Others, like Daphne, had fallen silent and was looking around the corridors as though waiting for Death Eaters to jump out at them from behind a tapestry. Lydia pretended not to notice how the suit of armours saluted her and Harry as they passed.

Lugging her trunk behind her whilst walking up the North Tower was not an easy task. Everyone else had cast a simple Wingardium Leviosa and we're doing it with ease, but Lydia could not bring herself to cast a spell. Since the Battle, her magic felt like it was contaminated and since May, she had probably only cast around four spells. No one had mentioned it to her. Or maybe they hadn't notice and simply did not care.

“Here we are!” Dean Thomas panted from the front of the crowd, “Incendio!’”

Wendelin the Weird gave a shriek of laughter and the tapestry rose up like a curtain in a theatre, revealing a door.

“That laugh isn't going to get annoying, is it?” Harry muttered.

The new common room was quite spectacular. It was larger than both the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms and seemed to have all characteristics from each house; there were the ridiculously plush armchairs sat in front of the fire like in Gryffindor tower, and a large window overlooking the grounds that was rather like the one that looked into the lake in the Slytherin dungeons. Lining the pale yellow coloured walls were large overflowing bookcases that Hermione already had her eye on.

“New favourite place,” Ron announced to the group as a whole.

“If anyone tries to sit in that chair by the window I'll punch them,” Lydia said, grinning despite everything.

The dormitories were bigger than the one in the Slytherin common room and for the first time, Lydia had a view of the grounds. She had never quite appreciated how beautiful Hogwarts really was. In the distance, Lydia could see the swaying trees of the Forbidden Forest and she remembered the flash of green light that that consumed her very being. She wondered that if someone was watching the Forbidden Forest at the time he had killed her, would they have seen the flash of the Killing Curse?

She turned her back on the window and looked around the room. There were only nine of them in the room. She had thought there would have been more people but then realised that most of the other girls had either chosen not to come back to school or were dead. It still didn't hit her.

Slowly, they dispersed from the middle of the room and began to pick beds. Lydia dropped her trunk onto the bed nearest the window and Hermione took the one besides her. Daphne took one look at Pansy and took the bed opposite Lydia, which was also as far away from Pansy as she could have possibly been. Lydia almost felt sorry for Pansy. They had never been the best of friends before the Battle and Lydia did not think that they ever would be, especially after she had been more than willing to get them up Voldemort but, as Lydia reflected, she must have been terrified. They all would have been.

A small sob brought her back to earth and she looked up. Parvati Patil was sat on her bed, sobbing into her hands as her sister sat next to her, her arm around her. Lydia looked around for Lavender and then remembered that Fenrir Greyback had killed her. And it still didn't hit her. Hermione sighed and walked over to, perching on the edge of the bed and talking to her quietly. Lydia wished that she new what to say to make them all feel better. She wondered how many people in the room secretly hated her. After all, she was the reason that all of these people were grieving. If they hadn't have come back to Hogwarts...

Lydia skipped dinner that evening and instead wanted to walk around the school before it became full of students again. She walked from the dungeons all the way to Astronomy tower. Some portraits stopped to talk to her, others simply bowed their heads or waved as she walked past. She ran into Nearly-Headless Nick (quite literally) and he was overly pompous in telling her how happy he was to see her again. When the Blood Barron silently drifted past her, Lydia thought that he might have nodded his head at her but she did not stop to ask. She had never quite warmed to the Slytherin ghost. When she passed Peeves, he did not bother her and instead sang a song about how ‘Voldys gone moldy,”. Lydia wondered how long it would take for that song to get on her nerves.

Back in the Entrance Hall, Lydia turned to the Great Hall. Halfway down the table, she could Harry, Ron and Hermione with Neville and Daphne. Lydia hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether or not she would go in or not. Already, she had vowed that she would not retreat to her sixth year self and cut herself off from everyone, but she just wanted one night to herself to see the grounds. Turning her back on the Hall, Lydia hurried down the steps and breathed in the fresh summer air.

The first thing she did was walk to the greenhouses. Although she hated getting attacked by all the plants in these greenhouses, she did love Herbology lessons. There was something strangely relaxing about being attacked by a Snargaluff. Some of her funniest memories came from Herbology lessons. After being quite transfixed by the Herbology greenhouses, Lydia moved onto Hagrid's hut. Despite the fact that the lettuce in his front gardens had wilted and there was no light coming from the hut, Lydia still knocked on the door in the hopes that he might answer. She wasn't sure why she was so surprised when there was no answer.

She left Hagrid's Hut and turned to face the Forbidden Forest. Just months before, she had walked straight backed into the trees thinking that she would not come out. Lydia considered taking a walk through the forest, but even she wasn't so stupid to do that alone. There was very little chance that she would come out alive. Which would hilariously ironic. So hilarious, in fact, that it was almost worth doing it for the joke. Remembering the Acromantula that lived in the forest and having no wish to ever come across them again, Lydia hurried away from the Forest and carried on walking.

For a while, she stood on the edge of the lake and looked over it. She smiled slightly at the memory of the second Triwizard Task and how scared she had been enforce she dived into the water. After everything she had been through, swimming in the Black Lake for an hour seemed like the easiest thing in the world. It seemed almost relaxing.

“Lydia, I thought you be in the Great Hall,”

She turned to find Draco Malfoy sat on the edge of the lake.

“I thought you would be,” she remarked.

He shrugged, “I don't feel very welcome. I think people are hung up on the Death Eater thing. I'm still hung up on the Death Eater thing,”

“You're more than that, Draco,” Lydia said quietly.

“Am I?” Draco asked, “Adeline Scrimgeour doesn't seem to think so. She told me that she wanted to put me in Azkaban for at least two years but then couldn't because you and Harry spoke for me...thanks for that, by the way,”

Lydia smiled at him.

“It's nothing,” Lydia said, “it was the right thing to do,”

“You always manage to do that, don't you? The right thing,”

“No, actually. You should have read my potions essays...absolutely terrible,”

Draco laughed, “Yeah, well, at least you'll never have to sit in a Potions classroom again. How's George?”

“Dealing with everything in the best way that he can,” Lydia shrugged, “How's your mum?”

“The same,” he said, “she doesn't mind working at St Mungo’s so much but...she misses my father,” a dark look overtook his face, “I don't know if I do, though,” he shook his head, “I'm sorry that you were put on trial. You shouldn't have had to go through that,”

Lydia shook her head, “Nah, it's...it's fine. Scrimgeour just doesn't want anymore Dark Wizards. I don't blame her for acting out,”

They stood staring at each other for a while and then Draco cleared his throat.

“Well, here's to a better year than last,”

“Onwards and upwards,” Lydia said, “Onwards and upwards...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is shorter than usual but I am veeeery busy at the moment so I can't promise that every chapter is going to be the length of War and Peace.
> 
> I usually have a half day at college on a Wednesday/Thursday (depending what mood my tutor is in) and that's when I get a lot of writing done so hopefully that means there will be a longish chapter sometime this week! 
> 
> Also, I promise I won't make this into a stereotypical eighth year fic, I've got a loooot planned!! 
> 
> -E


	39. McGonagall’s Announcement

Dressing for the first day of classes made Lydia feel strange. As she stared at herself in the mirror and tied her tie, she felt as though she was wearing fancy dress. Though, she couldn’t work out if that was because she hadn’t seen herself in her school uniform for so long or because she hadn’t expected to see the day she’d be back at Hogwarts as a student. Hermione was stood behind her, her school bag slung over her shoulder and obsessively polishing her wand. It was the first time Lydia had seen her looking truly like the Hermione she knew and loved and could have cried. 

Knowing Hermione would hate to be late on the first day of school, Lydia quickly snatched a hair tie off her bed and did her best to make her hair look presentable. When she stuck her wand in her bun, it was easy to pretend that that the previous year had yet to happen.

“Come on then,” Lydia said, picking her bag off the floor. 

Harry and Ron were waiting for them in the common room as it slowly began to empty. Daphne waved at Lydia before ducking under the tapestry after Draco and Zabini. Ron was jumping from one foot to the other looking impatient and Lydia was sure that it had something to do with his hunger levels.

The four of them smiled sheepishly at each other, as though they were finally realising how bad of an idea it was to be back at school and left the common room. Lydia had long since gotten used to a very short journey from the Slytherin common room to the Great Hall and was not at all appreciative of the long walk from the North Tower. Even Harry, Ron and Hermione found the walk difficult and by the time they actually arrived there, Lydia was ready to get back into bed. 

Fabio gave an angry squeak from her pocket and she jumped, completely forgetting that she had brought him. They found four empty seats at the very bottom of the Slytherin table and Lydia carefully set Fabio on her lap and began to feed him dried cornflakes. He munched away happily and Lydia helped herself to some bacon which very much reminding her how much she had missed the Hogwarts food. Ron had never looked happier as he helped himself to every piece of food that he laid his eyes on. Hermione gave him a half disappointed, half amused look and then poured them all a goblet of Pumpkin juice. 

There was a great sound of flattering wings and Lydia jumped. In her absence from school, she had forgotten about the morning owl post. She glanced up, looking for Hedwig and then remembered what had happened. She quickly looked away from the owls and instead became very focused on trying to stop Fabio from choking on some cereal. Maybe she did feed him too much. She needed to ask George how much they were meant to eat and was about to ask Hermione for a parchment and quill when something hit her on the head. 

“Ouch!” She exclaimed as the Weasley’s owl dropped a letter in Ron’s lap. 

Harry and Ron roared with laughter and pointed upwards. A very small owl was whizzing above her head and had dropped an envelope on her head.

“Pig!” Lydia snapped, staring up at the tiny owl, “You can just drop it in front of me! Not on me!” 

The owl hooted at her, took a break from the journey by perching on Ron’s head for a while and then took flight again. Hermione snorted as Ron rubbed his head and ducked under the piece of toast that he threw her way. Harry rolled his eyes at them but Lydia smiled. It really was about time. Making sure that Fabio was no longer choking, she stifled a yawned and picked up the letter, immediately recognising George’s handwriting. 

It was a long and slightly rambling letter (the kind of letters she was more than used to receiving off him) explaining how he had re-opened the shop with Charlie and it wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Sure, he wrote, Charlie doesn't really know how all the products work but he's getting by. According to George, business was booming more than ever and people weren't buying nearly as many shield cloaks as they were before, which could only mean that things could be getting better. He signed the letter off, as he always did,  asking her to send the next Hogsmeade date. She read the letter over and over again. Even through the letter, she could tell that he was doing a lot better than he had been. 

“Do we know the first Hogsmeade date?” Lydia asked Hermione. 

“Whenever,” she said, “It was on the notice board. Eighth years can leave the castle whenever they please,” 

“Brilliant,” Ron said, clapping his hands together, “We actually have something to do on the weekends!” 

“You're not going to Hogsmeade every weekend!” Hermione said, “Do you know how much homework we’re going to get?” 

“You always know how to put a dampen the mood, don't you?” Ron sighed. 

Hermione's rebuttal was killed off early by the arrival of Professor Slughorn. He shook Harry's hand in a way that was nothing short of maniacal, joyfully said hello to Hermione and was the warmest that he had ever been to Ron, who looked quite happy for himself. Lydia had completely forgotten about the existence of Slug Club and was trying to think of a good enough excuse to get out of it. Neville and Hermione had not yet discussed Prefect duty which was her old way out of Slug Cub. 

“Lydia!” He boomed, “Lovely to see you, dear, lovely to see you! Now, I need to sort out your timetable. What is it you want to take?” 

“Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology,” she reeled off, “Wait - who is teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts? I forgot Snape di- uh...you know...” 

An uncharacteristically dark expression overcame Slughorn’s face. 

“Professor McGonagall only managed to find one this morning. No one seems keen on the job, especially considering the record...” He looked down at Lydia with an almost pained expression, “Adeline Scrimgeour decided that working at the Ministry so soon after her uncle's death was too much for her,” 

“So, she's working at the Leaky Cauldron?” Lydia asked, a hopeful note in her voice. 

“I'm afraid not, my dear, she's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Professor Slughorn replied, “Now, are you sure you want to take it? It does seem a little redundant considering...”

“No, I still want to take it,” Lydia said firmly, “Who's teaching Transfiguration?” 

“Professor McGonagall is not quite ready to give her job as teacher up,” Slughorn replied, “Have a good year,” 

“Thank-you, Professor,” she said, taking her timetable off him. She quickly scanned it and felt her heart lift slightly. She did not have a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson until Wednesday! Her heart sank a little when she realised it was a double lesson at the very end of the day, “she's going to turn into another Umbridge,” Lydia said darkly, “I can feel it,” 

“You do have a free period now whilst we're in Potions! That's enough to cheer you up!” Hermione said brightly, “and then Transfiguration right after! That's not a bad morning. You've had worse,” 

Lydia thought back to the morning that they broke into Gringotts and nodded her head. Hermione was right. She really had had worse mornings. The bell rang and Harry and Ron simultaneously rolled their eyes as they dragged themselves down to the dungeons. Hermione practically ran downstairs without so much as a goodbye to Lydia.

Looking forward to an hour of relaxation, Lydia scooped Fabio off her lap and dropped him back in the pocket of her robes and made her way up to the Owlery. She wasn't sure if it was her mind playing tricks on her or not, but it suddenly seemed quite colourless without Hedwig's pure white feathers brightening the place up. Sighing, Lydia scribbled a reply to George, telling him that she could go to Hogsmeade whenever and called one of the school owls down.

“You know, I really never have understood how you're an owl but can also read envelopes,” Lydia muttered as she stroked the top of the Owls head, “You probably don't even know who George Weasley is and yet you'll somehow find him,” the owl nipped her finger slightly and then took off out of the window.

“Magic is cool,” Lydia said as though she was discovering it for the first time.

Realising she had no idea what she was going to do for an hour, Lydia left the Owlery and wandered over to Hagrid's Hut. When she got there, she thought that it was still empty but then she heard the familiar loud voice of someone who Lydia had missed more than she had probably realised. 

“Lydia! Yer here!” 

She spun around and saw Hagrid lumbering over to her followed by his dog, Fang. 

“Hagrid!” She exclaimed, running over to him and hugging him the best that she could due to his height, “I thought you weren't coming back!” 

“I was at the Sortin’ Cermony last nigh’ but I don’ think I saw yeh!” He chortled, opening the door to his hut and letting her in, “Yer OK, aren't yeh?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” Lydia said. A bright grin overtook her face when she took in Hagrid's house. It was one of the cosiest places in the world, despite how strange it might look to those who were not too familiar with Hagrid, “How are you?”

“Never mind me,” Hagrid said dismissively as he made them a pot of tea, “Yeh know me, I'm always fine, always fine. It's you I'm worried about,” his eyes travelled to her new scar but he quickly looked away. 

She smiled at him, “Honestly, Hagrid, I am doing OK. I'm just getting used to everything again. It's weird being back, and seeing everyone again. Especially you because well...you know,” 

Tears sprang to Hagrid's eyes and he nodded, “Carryin’ yeh outta that Forest was the hardest thing I've ever done,”

“That's not true, Hagrid. You had the job of chasing my dad and Sirius out of the Forbidden Forest when they were at school. And Fred and George. And occasionally me and Harry,” 

He laughed, “Yeah...how is George? I didn't speak to him much at the funeral, I didn’ feel like it was my place,” 

“He's...doing better,” Lydia answered, “He's had a few really bad days but I think he's getting better. He reopened the shop today. Charlie's helping him,” 

“Ah,” Hagrid said, placing the tea in front of him, “Always liked Charlie, me. When's the weddin’ then?” 

“Merlin, Hagrid! I've not had time to plan-”

“I’m only jokin’, I'm only jokin’,” he said, waving his hand and chuckling, “I do want an invitation, though,” 

Lydia spent the rest of her free period with Hagrid. She took Fabio out of her pocket and asked Hagrid if he looked like he was getting too fat. Hagrid assured that he was absolutely fine and his size was just a sign that he was well cared for.  He also told her that she worried far too much about the littlest of things. It was with a slightly heavy heart that Lydia left Hagrid to go to Transfiguration, but promised that she would bring Harry, Ron and Hermione for a visit as soon as was humanly possible. 

By the time she got to Transfiguration, Harry, Ron and Hermione were already sporting headaches from the fumes of the potions classroom and Lydia found it all very amusing. That was until Professor McGonagall started her lecture on more complex Vanishing Spells and she was soon sporting a massive headache herself. By the end of the lesson, Harry had his head resting on his hands, Ron looked as though he was doing breathing exercises to stop himself from passing out and Hermione was just about keeping up with taking notes. Lydia was just staring at blackboard and hoping that McGonagall would not realise that she wasn't actually paying attention and the only thing she had managed to write all lesson was, “Vanishing Spells,”. She hadn't even realised that McGonagall had set them homework until Ron starting complaining about it. 

Lydia had never known a day to drag like that one and there was a point halfway through Arithmancy when she wondered if she would ever get to her lunch break. Eventually, the end of the day came and Lydia had never been so happy to get to the Great Hall to eat. Though her happiness at being out of the classroom was cut short with the arrival of Adeline Scrimgeour. Lydia glowered at her as she swept past the Ravenclaw table where they were sat with Luna and Ginny.

“She’s going to be another Umbridge,” Lydia said again.

“Ugh, don't say that,” Ron muttered, glancing over at her, “I can't be bothered with doing Dumbledore's Army again,” 

“I didn't actually want to do it the first time,” Lydia reminded him, “but  _ someone _ ,” she looked pointedly at Hermione, “forced me into it,” 

“Yes, and it was a real disaster, wasn't it?” Hermione said calmly, flicking through a copy of the Daily Prophet, “this paper really is a load of rubbish, isn't it? Somehow, Rita Skeeter still has a column,”

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked, “what's she writing about this week?” 

Hermione smiled slightly, “Apparently, you had a number of lewd love affairs whilst on the run,” 

“You did, did you?” Ginny said, smirking at him. 

Harry didn't say anything and suddenly became very interested in his Steak and Kidney pie. Ginny looked almost hurt and turned to Luna who had evidently not been listening to anything that was being said. Hermione frowned at Harry, who was still refusing to look up from his pie. Lydia and Ron exchanged looks. Between the four of them, there was a lot that they had not discussed properly; how they really felt about what happened whilst they were on the run, how they really felt about being back at Hogwarts, how they were (or weren't) dealing with the deaths of their family and friends. Hermione had only mentioned her parents once since after the Battle and that was only because Kingsley had asked where they were. Since then, she had not spoke about them and did not see in any rush too. 

Whether or not Harry and Ginny would ever get back together was a question that seemed to be looming over their heads. Lydia was quite sure that there was very little chance that they ever would, but the subtle flirting had not gone unnoticed by anyone. She wasn't sure if Ron, Hermione or even Ginny were aware that Harry seemed fixated by Draco Malfoy. She wasn't sure that Draco noticed this either and she was not going to be the one to bring it up to him.

“Has McGonagall mentioned Quidditch at all?” Lydia asked suddenly, in an attempt to steer the subject of conversation away from Harry and Ginny. 

“No, she hasn't, actually,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “Unless they're not doing it this year...” 

“No one has been made Slytherin Captain, have they?” Ron asked Lydia, “I would have thought it would be you,” 

Lydia shrugged, “No one that I know of, but I haven't been down in the common room, have I? So I wouldn't know,” 

“I hope it's still on,” Harry said, “I need something to distract me...” 

September slowly wore on, bringing with it colder weather and a ridiculous amount of homework. Lydia had very quickly declared the seat by the big window in the common room her own and spent all her free time there, desperately trying to keep up with everything that was being thrown at them. She had started to do badly in Ancient Runes and was two more bad essays away from dropping it. She wasn't sure if she had just lost her touch or could not warm to the new Professor, but she wasn't nearly as good at is as she used to be.

The new Ancient Runes teacher, Professor Florence, was nice enough but Lydia missed Professor Babbling, a lot. Whenever she walked into the classroom, she would somehow manage to convince herself that Professor Babbling would be sat behind the desk but she never was, and then Lydia would lose interest in the lesson. Even Hermione wasn't badgering her to do better because Lydia could tell that she was missing their old Professor just as much. 

On the bright side, she was a much better teacher that Adeline Scrimgeour. Lydia felt that Scrimgeour accepting the job was a part of some bigger plan to get back at her and dreaded her Defence lessons in the way she used to dread Potions with Snape. In their first lesson, Scrimgeour had made a point of having Lydia sit at the desk right in front of her own (instead of at the back with Harry, Ron and Hermione) and was breathing down her neck as she watched Lydia write about the best way to tackle Dementors and pointing out everything she was doing ‘wrong’. 

“I've been able to cast this spell since I was thirteen!” Lydia said impatiently, “I haven't written anything wrong!” 

“Five points from Slytherin!” Scrimgeour said, sounding quite joyful, “you need to learn to treat your teachers with respect,” 

“I treat  _ real  _ teachers with respect,” Lydia muttered under her breath.Next to her, Daphne snorted loudly. 

“What was that, Miss Potter?” 

Lydia looked up at her, forcing a pleasant smile onto her face. 

“Nothing, Professor!”

\---

One Friday evening, Lydia sat in her seat in the common room reading a letter that George had sent her. On one hand, it was quite a positive note as he was telling her that he would be able to make it to Hogsmeade the next day. On the other hand, however, it was maybe the most depressing letter she had ever read. It wasn't that the contents that he had written were depressing, because he was just writing about how the shop was going, but it just seemed...flat. There was no jokes or funny stories about an unsuspecting customer falling victim to one of his pranks.

The next day, Lydia walked into Hogwarts with some trepidation. It wasn't that she wasn't looking forward to seeing George, because she was, but the letter he had written to her was still playing on her mind. She watched as Ron and Hermione walked slightly ahead of her hand in hand and Harry walked past her with Neville, Draco and Daphne. She smiled at the sight of the four of them together. They were an unlikely quartet, but she was more than happy that her long-held wish of house unity finally seemed to be coming true.

George was waiting for her at the top of the lane and smiled at people as they passed him. She grinned at him as she walked up to him, but he did not return it and Lydia's heart sank, knowing it was going to be one of those days. Maybe him being so close to Hogwarts so soon was too much for him. She still thought that it might be too much of her. 

“You OK?” She asked as they made their way into Hogsmeade. She wasn't really sure why she had asked him such a question. She knew the answer and she did not really want to hear it out loud. 

“I'm fine,” he said. Lydia did not believe him for one minute. 

They walked in silence to the Three Broomsticks and Lydia automatically headed to the bar whilst George went to find them somewhere to sit. It wasn't nearly as busy as she thought it would be, but then again it was not full of Hogwarts students like it usually would be when she was in. The first thing she noticed was that the other customers were letting her go straight to the front of the queue when she got to the bar. The more she tried to decline their offer to skip queue, the more insistent they got that she ordered before them and she eventually gave in. 

“That was embarrassing,” Lydia muttered when she sat back down with George. 

“What?” he asked. 

“No one would let me queue up. They let me go straight to the front of the line,”

He looked at her with what might have been a smile, “You're the Girl who Lived. You're too good to queue up now,” 

She snorted, “Yeah. I suppose that's the perks of dying. You don't have to queue for anything,” 

What followed was the most awkward two hours that Lydia had ever spent with George. They were both tiptoeing around the subject of Fred, and he seemed to be cropping up a lot. There had been a particularly awkward moment in which George had almost said that running the shop is not the same without Fred but quickly stopped himself from saying his name. Lydia hurriedly brought up the subject of Adeline Scrimgeour being the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and they then had to dance around the subject of the trial. Something Lydia still wasn't quite ready to talk about. 

“I just need you to come back to school and cause some trouble in her class,” she said to him. 

He shook his head, “I don't think I'd be able to,” 

Lydia raised her eyebrows, “Nothing's stopped you before,” 

“I'm not particularly fun to be around anymore, am I?” He shrugged, “I used to be able to make you laugh all the time and now you barely laugh when you're with me,” 

Lydia was taken aback. 

“That's not true,” she said, “You are fun to be around. You're always going to be fun to be around,” 

George shook his head again and hastily wiped his eyes. 

“I have been a bit of a shit Fiancé, haven't I? All those things I've been saying about killing myself...” 

“You always have a go at me for blaming myself for everything so don't be a hypocrite and start blaming yourself for anything that has happened over the last couple of months,” she said firmly, resting her hand on his, “You've had a shit time. We all have. I don't blame you for acting this way. I don't like it and I don't think that you do, either but I will never get mad at you for it,” she shook her head, “Merlin, George, I've already said this to you once but I haven't always been a great person to be around or have you forgotten everything that happened last year?” 

“I know,” he said, “but, I don't know, I asked you to marry me and now I don't have any energy to even  _ try  _ and plan something and I feel like I'm just keeping your hopes up-”

“Georgie, I would love to get married and I cannot wait to do so, but I will wait forever for you to be ready,” she said, “Jesus Christ, I don't think I'm ready yet. In fact, I know I'm not ready. I need to work through everything that's going on up here yet,” she said, gesturing to her head, “There's still stuff that I'm dealing with from being eight,” 

He chuckled slightly, “I wish we didn't have to go through any of this,” his eyes lingered on her second scar, “I wish we could just be a normal couple,” 

“Don't be ridiculous, George, we could never be a normal couple. I have terrible, terrible hair and you have one ear,” 

 

\---

“What's this about?” Lydia asked. 

They were all gathered in the Great Hall one Monday afternoon. Classes had randomly been cancelled with no explanation and none of the teachers would tell them anything.  Professor Florence had just herded them out of her class and up to the Hall where Lydia and Hermione had quickly found Harry and Ron who were thrilled to be missing their classes. 

“No idea,” Harry said, “I asked McGonagall and she just told me that it was about time I learned to mind my own business,” 

“She has a point,” Draco said. 

“Shut up,” 

“She does have a point, Harry,” said Ron, clapping him on the back, “Imagine how different our lives at Hogwarts could have been if you didn't stick your nose in other people's business?” 

“I don't stick my nose in other people's business!” Harry said indignantly, “I just get stuck in other people's business! Hermione! Tell them!” 

Hermione sighed, “They are all right, Harry,” 

“I preferred it when you and Ron weren't together. You agree with everything he says now! You're never on my side anymore!” He turned to look at Lydia who had been hoping to stay out of the conversation, “you're on my side, right?” 

“I'm staying neutral,” 

Before Harry could answer, McGonagall cleared her throat and the room became deathly still. McGonagall seemed to have notice this because she smiled at them slightly. Lydia felt herself begin to panic because this was how the Triwizard Tournament had started...and it had ended terribly. 

“This might be the first time I've had all of your attention at once,” she said, “I won't beat around the bush because I know you're all increasingly curious and I cannot deal with any more questions,” she paused for a moment, “We will be having an international Quidditch Tournament between some major magical schools,” 

Lydia immediately turned to look at Harry's who eyes had gone wide and he looked as though he could have married McGonagall on the spot. 

“Be warned- it is only open to years five and up,” she said, “if you wish to try out, please contact the Captain who will be announced sometime this week,” she looked around at the gathered students, “The schools that will be competing are: Beauxbatons Academy of Magic from France, Castelobruxo from Brazil, Durmstrang Institute from...well, somewhere, Ilvermorny of America, Mahoutokoro School of Magic from Japan and Koldovstoretz from Russia,” 

“This is the best thing that's ever happened to me,” Ron whispered. 

“The first games will not be knockouts, but merely something to warm us up to the game, then we will have the knockout games and then finally the final. Please remember that whilst this is a friendly competition to encourage unity between Witches and Wizards from every corner of the world, I really would like to win. Or at least do better than those Americans. They really are quite obnoxious,” 

That evening, all anyone talked about was the Tournament. Lydia expected to find Harry at the heart of it all, but was supposed to find him sat on his own in her favourite seat. He was staring out of the window, fiddling with his old captains badge attached to his robes. 

“Hey, that's my seat,” she said, walking over to him and nudging him.

“It's mine now,” he muttered absentmindedly. 

Lydia perched on the edge of the table, “No one expects you to play. You don't have to if you don't want to,” 

“That's not true,” he said, “people have already asked me if I'm going to play. I know I said I wanted to play Quidditch this year but...it's been so long,”

“I know,” Lydia said gently. 

“Are you going to play? Or at least tryout,”

“I don't know,” she admitted, “I only ever played one year and I don't know if I was ever very good and-”

“Don't be stupid!” He said, “you were amazing! One of the best Chasers in the school!” 

When Lydia went to bed that night, she got lost in Quidditch fantasies and wondered whether a profession career was something attainable for her. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I promise that no matter what, this will not turn into a terrible version of the Goblet of Fire.
> 
> (Even if it looks like it will right now) 
> 
> -E.


	40. Halloween

Arguably, Halloween was the best time of year at Hogwarts just because of the Halloween Feast. And yet, Lydia could not bring herself to look forward to it. Since she had found out that her parents had died on Halloween night, it was not a day that she looked forward to. Harry seemed to be doing what he always did when faced with something that might make him feel a little bit sad; ignoring it. Whenever someone asked him about anything vaguely to do with Halloween, he would just shrug his shoulders and then start talking loudly about the weather.

And he was talking about the weather a lot because Halloween seemed to be the only thing anyone was talking about. Seamus and Dean had vowed to throw the best Halloween Party ever in the common room and had enlisted the help of Luna, which could only mean that it would quickly become something ridiculous. Hermione had knit Fabio a pumpkin costume that even Lydia thought he looked adorable in and Neville spent most of his evenings sat in the corner of the common room, sewing together a Mandrake Costume for himself. Hermione and Ron would often be found bickering in the common room (or anywhere in the castle, really) about whether or not Ron would wear a costume. Hermione said that he absolutely had to wear a costume because everyone else would be, but Ron said that he didn't want to because he would look ridiculous.

Lydia tried to avoid the entire thing by sitting in the library and trying to get as much work done as humanly possible. Though, she really never did get anything done. Since coming back to school, homework and exams seemed pointless to her. Especially Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Slughorn had been right, taking Defence Against the Dark Arts really was redundant. They were going over spells that Lydia had been casting for over ten months in life and death situations and Scrimgeour somehow managed to find something to shout at her about every single lesson. Even on the lessons when she was purposely doing everything as Scrimgeour was saying just to stay out of trouble. Lydia was starting to think that she was destined to be in some sort of trouble for the rest of her life.

George had written to her again after a few weeks of silence. It had panicked Lydia but, as she constantly had to remind herself, if something had gone terribly wrong then she would know about it. They wouldn't just leave her, Ron and Ginny in the dark about what was happening with George and the rest of the family. It was a short letter but she could tell that whenever he had written this, he had been in a good mood.

It simply said, “Halloween date?” accompanied by a terrible drawing of what she assumed was a pumpkin. Lydia had wasted no time in writing back and drawing a pumpkin herself, which was possibly even worse than the one he had drawn, though the sentiment was there. It at least gave her something to look forward to and could hopefully mean that she could skip the Halloween party that she really didn't want to go to.

“Lydia, I have an amazing idea,” Hermione announced one morning as they walked to Arithmancy.

“Which is...”

“We should go dressed as witches for Halloween,”

“Hermione, I don't know how to tell you this without freaking you out but we are witches,”

She rolled her eyes, “I'm more than aware of that, Lyds, I mean we should go dressed as what Muggles think witches look like!” When Lydia didn't show any sign of excitement, Hermione rolled her eyes again, “those terrible polystyrene dresses that are covered in spiders! Terrible broomsticks! Those black and white wands! Come on, Lyds! Awful pointy hats-”

“We're both wearing pointy hats now,” Lydia pointed out, “They are a part of our uniform, remember,”

“No, I know, I mean the ones that Muggles think we wear,” Hermione said, somehow getting more excited, “This Friday, we could go to Muggle London and buy everything! And I don't care what Ron says, he is dressing up. Him and Harry are going as Vampires, but Muggle Vampires that don't at all look like the real things,”

“Are either Harry or Ron aware of this?” Lydia asked.

“No, and we both know it's better that way,”

In the end, Lydia agreed with her because she knew that there was no getting out of it. When Friday rolled around, she and Hermione walked into Hogsmeade and then Apparated to Muggle London. It was only when they got there that Lydia remembered she isn't actually have her Apparition licence and had been Apparating illegally for almost a year. She was sure that she'd be able to get away with it as long as Adelina Scrimgeour didn't find this fact out.

Lydia had completely forgotten that Muggle London actually existed since coming back to Hogwarts. It was strange seeing all these people knowing that they had no idea about the secret war that had been raging so close to them for years. It was refreshing being surrounded by people who did not give her any attention and also made her queue up when she and Hermione went to get something to eat. It was amazing. It made her feel normal. A feeling she wasn't sure that she had ever experienced before.

The shopping trip wasn't nearly as bad as Lydia had thought it would be. In fact, it was actually quite enjoyable and she went back to Hogwarts with a bright grin on her face, despite the fact that she was starting to think that she might have been longing for life as Muggle. When they arrived back in the common room and showed Harry and Ron their purchases, neither of them seemed particularly impressed with long capes with a high collar that they'd have to wear.

“We’re going to look like the shittest vampires ever!” Harry said.

“That's the point,” Hermione grinned, “Ooh, I also got you both white face paint,”

“You are not putting that on my face,” Ron said.

“Yes, I am,” Hermione said dismissively, “but don't worry, it's really easy to get off!”

“Never mind that. I'm having a crisis,” Harry said quickly.

“How big of a crisis is it?” Lydia asked.

“McGonagall asked me to be Hogwarts Quidditch captain and I was really stupid and I said yes,” he groaned, “why did I say yes?”

“Because you love Quidditch and have been playing it since you were eleven?” Lydia said.

He glared at her, “Don't you start being the reasonable one now. Or do, actually, because you're going to be one of the Chasers and there's nothing you can do about it,”

“I could say no,”

“Please, Lydia, we've never played on the same team before and I'm too scared to do it on my own. Please,”

“Fine,” she snapped, “but you better get me a really good Christmas present,”

The tryouts were quite possibly the most stressful thing that Lydia had ever been put through. Harry did not have to oversee just a few hopefuls from Gryffindor house,but at least sixty people from across all four houses. He then started to panic because he didn't want to look like he was favouring Gryffindor over all the other houses and didn't want people to think that he was disregarding Slytherin if he didn't pick anyone from that house.

“We’re used to it, don't worry about that,” Lydia said.

In the end, Lydia felt as though Harry had put together a good team. The other two chasers were Ginny and Blaise Zabini who had not shown much excitement when told he would be playing on the team. Lydia assured Harry that in the seven years that she had known Zabini, he had never once looked happy to be anywhere. He struggled to find two Beaters that lived up to the legacy of Fred and George but settled on a fifth year Ravenclaw by the name of Billy Wiltshire and one of Lydia's teammates from the previous year, Edward Fredericks, though he had been Keeper then. And, still having faith in Ron, Harry made him Keeper. He wasn't particularly happy about it but, as Harry pointed out, only three people tried out and he was the only who actually saved any goals.

“You're Keeper and that's that,” Harry said firmly, “You can try out for a place on the team and then complain when you then get on the team!”

“Yes I can!” He protested, “look, I'm doing it now!”

But Harry would not listen to any of Ron’s protests and they got straight into practice. They all looked quite peculiar in their new black Quidditch robes. Lydia had gotten used to wearing the bright green Slytherin robes and almost missed them. The moment Lydia sat on her broom for the first time in over and year and kicked off the ground, she was reminded of how much she had enjoyed playing Quidditch. With the wind rushing through her hair, Lydia felt as though nothing else really mattered and as a Bludger came rushing towards her and she only just managed to move out the way in time, Lydia realised that she might have been experiencing genuine happiness.

By the time Harry blew his whistle and they landed on the ground, even Zabini was smirking slightly and they walked back to the changing rooms in a good mood. It was nice, Lydia thought as she looked around at the team, that all these people from different houses could get along so well and even go as far as work on a team.

The students from the other six schools that were competing in the tournament were set to arrive the day after Halloween. Professor McGonagall had called the Hogwarts Quidditch team and the Head Boy and Girl into her office on Halloween morning, looking quite stern. Lydia assumed that they were about to get lectured about the importance of not embarrassing Hogwarts in front of everyone and settled down into her seat and stifled a yawn.

“I do not want to make a big deal about these foreign students arriving,” McGonagall began, “Which is why we’re going to have a small welcome feast in here with them. I want you all here on time, in full school uniform and on best behaviour,”

“Is there going to be a language barrier because-” Harry began.

“No, Potter, there is not because unlike us, they have all managed to learn more than one language,” McGonagall said, “Merlin knows we are all quite arrogant to think that everyone should be able to speak to English,”

After a predictably long lecture, McGonagall sent them on their way. Hermione and Neville stayed behind so that McGonagall could tell them everything that they needed to know about the other schools. Lydia wondered if word of the war had reached other countries and whether or not they would find she or Harry particularly fascinating. After all these years in the Wizarding World, she really was quite bored of people finding her fascinating.

“You all right?” Harry asked her.

“Yeah, fine,” she said. “Are you?”

He shrugged, “I don't know. Today's a weird day,”

Lydia nodded, “Yeah, today is a weird day,” they began to walk up the steps of the North Tower, “What are you doing today?”

He suddenly looked quite embarrassed, “I, uh, I don’t know yet. What are you doing?”

She pretended not to notice his strange behaviour, “I’m meeting George. Charlie’s looking after the shop,”

When Lydia eventually got ready and walked up to Hogsmeade, George was stood waiting for her in their usual meeting place and, unusually, he was beaming. She also noticed that he had finally cut his hair after letting it grow so much and his robes were much brighter. Lydia felt herself smile as she walked over to him.

“What are you grinning about?” She asked.

“Nothing in particular. Just in a good mood,” he said, “Can we go to the Hog’s Head today? We always go to the Three Broomsticks,”

“Sure,” Lydia said, “I'm sure Aberforth will be thrilled to see me again,”

He was not thrilled to see her again. When she did walk in he just sighed and shook his head at her, sliding two Butterbeers over the bar. At least Aberforth was not giving her special treatment. Though, she was not sure that he gave anyone special treatment.

“So, how's Quidditch going?” George asked, still grinning.

“Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I'm actually enjoying it,” Lydia said.

“I like how you're shocked at the prospect of you actually enjoying something,” he said.

“I think I might be a bit of an idiot for agreeing to do it though. If it wasn't for Harry I probably wouldn't have said yes,” Lydia shrugged.

“Why not?” George asked.

“I mean, I'm not really that good, am I?”

“Yes you are,”

“You're only saying that because you're my Fiancé,”

“Actually, as my Fiancé it's my duty to tell you if you're being a dick or not for doing something,” George pointed out, “and I don't think you're being a dick so I think you should go and do it,”

“Yeah, yeah - hey, there’s Harry and Ginny!” She exclaimed as the door of the bar opened again.

“You didn’t tell me they were meeting us,”

“They’re not,” Lydia said, “oh my god, they’re on a date!”

George gasped loudly, “they’re on a date!” He hissed, “wait, don’t let them see us. Hide!”

Simultaneous, they grabbed their Butterbeer off the table and slid under the table and out of sight. Lydia watched as Harry’s legs walked over to them and paused for a moment.

“We could go in that other room,” Ginny called to him, “Aberforth freaks me out,” she added in a whisper.

“Completely understandable,” Harry said, “yeah, let’s go,”

When Harry had walked away, Lydia turned to George who had tears of laughter streaming down his face. Once they were sure the coast was clear, they sat back on their seats, looking around. Harry and Ginny had gone into the other room and would not be able to see them.

“They’re on a date!” George repeated, “I can’t believe Ginny didn’t tell me!”

“I can’t believe Harry didn’t tell me!” Lydia said, “I bet Ron and Hermione don’t even know!”

“I wonder why they’re being so secretive...”

“They probably don’t want people to make a big deal out of it,” Lydia shrugged. She glanced up at George who had a glint in his eye that Lydia usually associated with him causing trouble, “Don't you dare talk to either of them about this!”

“You can’t stop me from talking to my own sister!”

“Watch me,”

He grinned at her again, “Are you going to that Halloween Party tonight?”

“I don’t think that I can get out of it,” Lydia sighed, “It’s all that Hermione has been looking forward to. I guess people just need something to enjoy these days,”

“It’ll be nothing compared to the parties that me and Fred used to throw in Gryffindor tower,”

Lydia looked at him and tried not to react to the fact that he had just mentioned Fred’s name. That was one of the first times that he had actually said it since the funeral. She had thought that he was going out of his way to avoid saying. He seemed to have noticed her shock and smiled.

“I’m OK, Lydia, you don’t need to worry about me,”

“I know,” she said, and she was being honest, “but I’m always going to worry about you,”

“And I’m always going to worry about you,” he said, “because somehow, you manage to get into more trouble than me,”

“I get into life-threatening trouble and you get into trouble that you can somehow turn into a successful business,”

“I'm sure you could turn the Children who Lived into a pretty good business,” George said, “You could pull a Gilderoy Lockhart,”

“I would rather have no money for the rest of my life than turn into Gilderoy Lockhart,” said Lydia.

“I'll remember that,” he said, “Still enjoying school? Or not enjoying school?”

“Oh, no I hate it,” Lydia said bluntly, “I really shouldn't have gone back but here I am,”

George looked worried for a moment, “Maybe you should just leave,”

“No, it's fine. A school year isn't exactly long, is it?” She said.

“As long as you're not just forcing yourself into it because you think that's where you should be,” George said, suddenly seriously.

“Georgie, you know I never have any idea where I'm meant to be at any time,” Lydia said, “it's a miracle I made it here - oh, also, look at Fabio!” She pulled him out of her pocket, “Look! He's wearing a pumpkin costume!”

Back at the castle, Lydia was in a very good mood. She was in such a good mood, that she didn't even pull her face when she got back to the common room to find it covered in Halloween decorations. She even helped Luna put up some of them up despite how lavish they were. She found Ron and Hermione sat cross legged in front of the fireplace. Hermione was trying to lean towards Ron but Ron kept on leaning away from her.

“Ron, kiss your girlfriend and stop being weird,” Lydia said, sitting down next to them.

“She's trying to put this stupid make up on me!” He said, gesturing to the face paint sat on the floor in between them.

“Don't be such a dick, Ron!” Hermione said exasperatedly, “You and Harry agreed to this!”

“I don't think we did, actually,” Harry said, walking over to them, “but if we don't go through with it then I'm worried they'll curse us,”

“How embarrassing is it going to be if you're the only ones not dressed up? Even Fabio has a costume,” Hermione said and Lydia held Fabio up just to prove her point.

“I hate it when you two team up against us,” Ron muttered, “Fine! Get on with it!”

Hermione beamed and began to cover Ron's face in the paint. Lydia found the whole thing very amusing. She had never seen Ron look so angry at the prospect of having to do something fun. Harry sniggered and sat with his back against the armchair behind him. Lydia glanced around the room and saw Ginny sat having her makeup done by Daphne whilst Neville watched on, still sewing his Mandrake leaves.

“Did you go to Hogsmeade today?” Lydia asked him casually.

“No,” he said, lying effortlessly, “I stayed back and finished that essay for Sprout, it took me ages. Is George OK?”

“Yeah, yeah he's fine. He was in a really good mood, actually. We went to the Hog’s Head,” Lydia said, still speaking casually.

“T-the Hog’s Head?” He said, “Anyone we know in?”

Lydia fought back a smile, “Might have been one or two people in, but we couldn't really see,”

He nodded and then quickly changed the subject, although whatever secrecy Harry and Ginny were trying to uphold did not last long. Halfway through the Halloween party after Lydia had had to stand and listen to Neville tell people about his Mandrake party, Daphne sidled up to her, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Have you seen your brother recently?” She asked.

“I try not to, actually,” Lydia said, “why?”

She sniggered and pointed to near the fireplace. Harry and Ginny were sat wrapped up in one of the chairs, kissing. Lydia wrinkled her nose slightly and turned back to Daphne.

“They were trying to keep it a secret,” Lydia said.

“That's the exact opposite of secret,”

“Maybe they don't know what the word secret means,” Lydia shrugged.

“Well, that's just Gryffindors for you, isn't it?” Daphne sighed, “very impulsive and never think anything through,”

“Can you believe that I used to want to be a Gryffindor?” Lydia scoffed.

“Sometimes we all did,” Daphne said, “but then I thought that climbing all the way up to Gryffindor tower was too much of a ball ache. And look at me now. Merlin, getting up to this common room is ridiculous, isn't it?”

“Oh, don't even get me started on it!” Lydia groaned, “I miss the dark depressing Slytherin common room,”

“There is something weirdly comforting about it, isn't there?” Daphne said.

Lydia laughed and looked around the room again. Neville was still going on with himself, Harry and Ginny were still very busy and Ron and Hermione seemed to have disappeared from the room. Her eyes fell on Draco who was sat alone, looking at Harry and Ginny. His costume was just a bit of blood on his face. Lydia wandered over and sat down next to him.

“Would you like to hold Fabio?” Lydia asked, “He’ll make you feel better. He was basically my coping mechanism last year,”

Draco took Fabio off her, “I don't like straight people. No offence,”

“I don't like people. No offence,”

He sniggered and stroked Fabio, “I’m going to be single forever,”

“Nah, you're not, you're too attractive for that,”

“Did you just call me attractive?”

“Yeah, Draco, I did, use your ears,” Lydia sighed.

“Don't let George hear you say that,”

“Oh, believe me, he won't,” said Lydia, “if you stand on his earless side he can't hear a thing and if he was sat next to me now, he wouldn't hear a thing,”

They both burst into laughter and Lydia supposed that things weren't all that bad.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I officially finished planing everything today and I am soooo excited about it all! 
> 
> -E.


	41. Hogwarts .V. Beauxbatons

“I’m so achy,” Ron moaned. He had made it halfway up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and had subsequently given up, sinking to the ground. 

“I did tell you not to drink any Firewhiskey because we had Quidditch practice first thing,” Harry said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

“You're the one who decided to schedule Quidditch practice for  _ after  _ a party,” 

“You're the one who completely disregarded all my advice,” Harry shot back. 

Hermione looked at her watch, “we should probably get going to McGonagall’s office. I don't think she'll want us to be late,” 

Lydia looked down into the Entrance Hall and saw Neville half slumped against the wall, his eyes closed. If the Halloween party had taught them anything, it was that none of them knew how to drink properly. Lydia felt fine, though that might have been because she had spent most of her evening convincing a drunk Draco Malfoy that he wouldn't die alone. She wasn't sure he had actually listened to a thing that she had said, but he did eventually stop crying. 

“I’ll go and get Neville,” she said, “before he collapses,” 

Whilst Harry and Hermione heaved Ron off the floor, Lydia jogged back down to the Entrance Hall and punched Neville in the arm. It did not quite have the effect that she was after because he simply opened one eye to look at her. He was looking alarmingly pale and Lydia took a step back from him in case he suddenly found the urge to vomit. 

“Is it time for class?” 

“No, Neville, it's time for that welcome feast with Professor McGonagall...for the Quidditch tournament,” 

His eyes suddenly went wide with fear, “Oh, no, is that today?” 

“Yes,” 

He slowly slid down the wall and drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them. Lydia sighed and crouched down in front of him, gently resting her hand on his shoulder and telling him that they would be able to get through this together.

“So hungover,” he murmured, “I can still taste the Firewhiskey,” 

Lydia bit back laughter knowing that she would not appreciate being laughed at if she was in this state. 

“I'm sure eating a feast would help you,” she said gently, “and you should probably drink some water,” 

“Water,” he muttered, “yes, water is good,”

Lydia helped him off the ground and, still resisting the urge to laugh, lead him towards the stairs but an unfamiliar voice stopped them both in their tracks. Lydia's mind automatically jumped to  _ intruder  _ but then remembered that no Dark Wizard would be stupid enough to try and attack Hogwarts again. 

“Sorry, do either of you know where Professor McGonagangs office is?” 

“American,” Neville muttered, turning around. Lydia felt that it would be rude to not turn to face him and quickly followed suit. The American was probably only a year or two younger than they were. He was tall and had the build of a Beater. He was wearing read and cranberry robes with a cloak that was tied by a small golden brooch. He was wearing a small badge with the letter C engraved on it. 

“Do you mean Professor McGonagall?” Neville asked. 

“Yeah, her. Do you know where her office is?” 

“As Head Boy I have a vague idea,” Neville said, “What's your name?”

“Matthew Derrick. Ilvermorny Captain,” he said brightly. 

“Oh, well, you should get to know Lydia here,” Neville said, pointing to Lydia who forced a smile onto her face. 

“Oh. Are you a reserve?” 

“Am I what?” Lydia asked, taken aback. 

“A - Quidditch - reserve,” he was speaking very loudly as though she was a child, “Or do you just like watching it?” 

Lydia frowned at him, “Well, I like watching it but I am also Chaser,”

“Oh,” he said, clearly shocked, “Is this your first time playing?” 

“Second year,” Lydia replied. The more he talked, the less she liked him, “What position do you play?” 

Matthew grinned at her, “Seeker,”

“My brothers playing Seeker. He's Captain of the Hogwarts Quidditch team,”

A look of realisation dawned on his face and his eyes travelled to her forehead before lingering on the newer scar that poked out of her robes. Automatically, her hand went to her neck to cover it and he sniggered. Lydia wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. 

“Lydia Potter. I did think you'd come back to school after everything,” 

“Why would you know anything about me?” 

“You and your brother are famous,” he said as though she wasn't aware of this, “Maybe that's why they let you both on the team. Out of pity,” 

Neville reached for his wand but Lydia stopped him. McGonagall had made them all promise to treat every guest student with respect and she felt that duelling them was probably disrespectful. 

“We’ll see when Hogwarts play Ilvermorny, won't we?” Lydia smiled, trying to speak as pleasantly as she could. 

Professor McGonagall’s office was packed full of people. Someone had set up a large table in the middle for the teams to sit at. There were so many different names being thrown Lydia's way and she could barely keep up with it. By the time everyone had been introduced, it took her awhile to remember Harry's name and even then she wasn't quite sure if she was getting it right. Ron seemed quite overwhelmed by the whole thing, though that could have been more to do with his hangover and less to do with how many people they were meeting. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be in her element and was somehow able to hold a conversation with all the foreign students whilst Lydia could barely hold a conversation with Ginny, who she had known since she was twelve. 

The other schools were fascinating, though. One Russian student was telling them about how she had once tried to ride a normal broomstick, instead of an uprooted tree, and slid right off the end, breaking both off her legs. A student from Japan was explaining how their robes change colour as they move through school. 

“Our first robes are pink and then as we gain experience they change colours. Mine are silver now and at the end of school, they will hopefully be gold,” 

“What does gold mean?” Ginny asked. 

“It means that we've received top marks in all our school subjects!” He said brightly, “Hogwarts is very different to Mahoutokoro. We start school at seven, but then we are only day students. We don't start living there full time until we’re eleven, like you,” 

“How do you get home?” Ron asked, “There's no way we could get the Hogwarts Express to and from school everyday,” 

“We go home on giant Storm Petrels,” 

“Giant what?” Harry asked. 

“Storm Petrels,” Hermione said, “They're birds,” 

“Wicked,” said Billy Wiltshire. 

It was strange seeing Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students back at Hogwarts. Lydia was half expecting to see Gabrielle Delacour, or even Fleur herself. Neville was getting along well with the Castelobruxo students who wore bright green robes for the school was located in the Amazon Rainforest and was also specially advanced in Herbology. When Lydia heard him mention his Mandrake costume, she quickly turned away from him and began to discuss the difference between a tree and a broomstick with one of the Russian students. He could not wrap his head around how a ‘tiny stick’ could hold a person in the air, Lydia could not wrap her around how someone could fly well whilst on a tree. 

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree!” Lydia said, conceding defeat. 

“One day, you will ‘ave to try and fly the way we do!” Andrei said, “it is much easier than you would think!” 

“But is it not uncomfortable?” Edward Fredericks asked. 

“You say that as though your excuses of broomsticks are the most comfortable things to sit on!” Andrew exclaimed, “They are not!” 

“He's got a point,” Ron interjected, “They're  _ so  _ uncomfortable,”

“Yeah, but it's not a whole tree, is it?” Lydia said, “They fly a tree!” 

“There are no leaves on them,” Andrei said, as though this made his case any better. 

Throughout the evening, Lydia kept on noticing Matthew Derrick staring at her and she wanted nothing more than to kick him in the face. As far as she was aware, he had not yet spoken to Harry and was talking a lot to Zabini, who did not at all seemed thrilled about that fact. Ron was still having the broomstick versus tree debate whilst Harry looked on, very clearly confused. Lydia and Ginny, on the other hand, we're having a very in depth conversation with McGonagall about the tactic the Porskoff Ploy and whether or not they would be able to use it on the Russian team, considering it was created by a Russian player. 

“I don't see why not,” Ginny shrugged. 

“Would they not be expecting it, though?” Lydia asked. 

“Not necessarily,” McGonagall said thoughtfully, “Perhaps they would be expecting you to not use it against them. It's not the only tactic out there, though.  A good one to use would be the Transylvanian Tackle,” 

Ginny shook her head, “Oh, no. Charlie tried to use that on Bill once. It didn't quite work out and Bill reckons his nose hasn't been the same since,” 

“Is that the one where you pretend to punch someone in the nose?” Lydia asked, “Yeah, no, not happening,”

“That very tactic won Gryffindor the house cup back when I was in school,” McGonagall told them, “Although, it was done completely wrong and Hufflepuff were a Beater down for the rest of the match,” 

“ _ Gryffindor? Hufflepuff?”  _ Matthew Derrick scoffed, “what kinda names are those?” 

“Our houses,” Harry said, sitting in the seat next to Ginny, “We have Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin,” 

“Gryffindors are courageous and adventurous,” Ginny said, “Ravenclaws are smart and creative, Hufflepuffs are loyal and hard workers and Slytherins are...Slytherins are...” 

“The Slytherin motto is “Do what is necessary,”” Lydia interjected, “We’re just as loyal as Hufflepuffs and clever as Ravenclaws. I'm in Slytherin and so is Zabini and Fredericks. Any ginger in here is probably in Gryffindor, Harry, Hermione and Neville are in Gryffindor and Wiltshire is in Ravenclaw,”

“Our houses are better,” Matthew said, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms, “Pukwudgie, Wampus, Thunderbird and Horned Serpent,” 

Ron snorted into his goblet of Pumpkin Juice. “Sorry,” he said hastily, “the name Wampus is funny,” 

McGonagall cleared her throat, “You have no tact, Weasley. Tell us about the houses, Mr Derrick,” 

Ron looked momentarily offended and then turned his attention to Matthew, though Lydia could tell that he was still on the verge of laughter. 

“Horned Serpent represents the mind of a Wizard and favours scholars, Wampus-” he shot a nasty look at Ron when he sniggered again, “represents the body of a Wizard and favours warriors. Thunderbird represents the soul of a Wizard and favours adventurers and Pukwudgie represents the heart of a Wizard and favours healers,” 

“I'd definitely be in Thunderbird,” Ron said, “it's the closest to Gryffindor, isn't it?” 

“Yeah,” Ginny said, “Think I would be,” 

“Me too,” Harry said, “Though Hermione would definitely be in Horned Serpent,” 

They all turned to look at Lydia who just shrugged, “I have no idea,” 

“Wampus,” McGonagall said, “I think you would be in Wampus,” 

Ron laughed again, “Mate, if we went to Ilvermorny and you were in Wampus, I would never be able to take you seriously,” 

“What house are you in?” Ginny asked Matthew, rolling her eyes at Ron. 

He glared at Ron again, “Wampus,” 

“You'd definitely be a Slytherin,” Ron said, clearly trying to make things less awkward. 

“No, he wouldn't,” Lydia said, “He'd be in Gryffindor,”

“Maybe he'd be in both. You were nearly put in Gryffindor, weren't you?” Ron asked. 

“No, the Sorting Hat sent me straight to Slytherin. Harry nearly went to Slytherin,” Lydia reminded him, “You're getting us mixed up,” 

Ron and Ginny very quickly got into a fierce debate about what other houses they could have gotten sorted into. Ron was convinced that no other house could have taken him, but Ginny thought that he would have been a good Hufflepuff. When Harry pointed out that Ron did actually have Hufflepuff traits, he started talking about how yellow really wasn't his colour. Not for  the first time, Lydia felt as though the Hogwarts houses did not at all help the unity that the founders had sought after. 

It was past midnight by the time Professor McGonagall sent them all off to bed. The other schools were staying in Hogsmeade and were quite cheery in the way that they bid Hogwarts good night. It was an entirely different atmosphere to that of the Triwizard Tournament and Lydia suspected that the Heads of the other schools might have given their students a stern talking to about how to treat the Hogwarts students. The only person who had talked about the war was Matthew Derrick and Lydia just put that down to him being immature. 

The first Quidditch match of the season (Hogwarts v Beauxbatons) was upon them quickly. Scheduling practices became very difficult for everyone had to practice and there was only one Quidditch stadium. Sometimes, they would have to share the pitch with another team which just gave everyone involved a great deal more of anxiety than what was healthy. 

Before the first match, the team were sat in the changing rooms waiting for Harry. Outside, Lydia could hear the hundreds of thousands of chattering Quidditch fans heading towards the stadium. According to Ron and Ginny, the entire Weasley family had booked the morning off work just to come and see them play. Lydia tried to not think about all the extra eyes that were on her. Doing that was enough to send anyone around the bend. 

Harry burst into the room and they all jumped. He dropped his broom onto the floor and started packing up and down, wringing his hands together. 

“There's scouts here, coming to watch us play,” he said, “From the Holyhead Harpies, the Tutshill Tornados, the Appleby Arrows and Puddlemere United,” 

“To recruit us to professional teams?” Ginny asked eagerly.

Harry nodded, “but don't let that freak you out. We’ll just play as normal. And remember, this isn't the knockouts yet,” he paused and then added, “I still want to win, though,” There was a knock on the door shouting that they had two minutes before the start of the game. 

“You know Madam Hooch has come back for this?” Ginny said standing up and picking her broom off the floor.

“Really? Who even refereed when she was - oh, yeah,” Billy trailed off, casting an awkward look in Lydia and Harry's direction, “Sorry,” 

“You can talk about our dad, Billy,” Harry said, “We won't start crying,” he looked around at his team, “Well, let's get this over and done with then,” 

They shouldered their brooms and walked out into the stadium. They were met with raucous sounds of applause and cheering. Lydia looked up into the stands and despite her nerves, Lydia couldn't help but grin. Even Ron managed to smile sheepishly even though he looked like he was going to throw up. 

Lee Jordan's voice rang out across the stadium. Lydia laughed out loud. He was the last person that she had been expecting to hear. 

“Here is the Beauxbaton team: Captain Garrant, playing Keeper, Chasers Arquette, Bosier and Brevard and seeker Helbert!” He paused as the Beauxbatons supporters cheered, “Aaaand, here's the Hogwarts team! Captain Potter playing Seeker, Chasers Potter, Weasley and Zabini, Keeper Weasley and Beaters Wiltshire and Fredericks! You’ll notice how they're all very happy to see me. Everyone loves me here. Even Minerva. Here's the crazy thing because I'm not a student anymore, I can call her Minerva and she can't give me detention!” 

Lydia rolled her eyes in the direction of the Commentators stand and although she could not see her, she was quite sure that McGonagall was doing the exact same thing.

“Captains shake hands,” Madam Hooch ordered. 

They stepped forward and shook hands. It was the first time that Lydia had never seen the opposing Captains trying to break each other's fingers. It was quite refreshing, really. 

“Mount your brooms...” Madam Hooch placed her whilst in her mouth and blew. 

Lydia kicked off the ground, the wind blowing through her hands and robes. She caught a brief glimpse of the Golden Snitch and then it whizzed off down the street. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle upwards and Lydia shot forward, catching it in her hands. Two of the Beauxbatons Chasers had done the exact same thing as her but had lost control of their brooms after being beaten to the Quaffle and crashed into each other. 

“That's Potter with the Quaffle. Merlin, she looks very happy, doesn't she? She's acting as though she's somehow won the game,” Lee Jordan said in a happy voice, “And she's reversed passed to Blaise Zabini who has yet to crack a smile and now Weasley has it...and that's a Bludger from Colbert, I think and she's dropped the damn Quaffle, oh, never mind, Potter has it again,” Lydia streaked off down the pitch, weaving in and out of the Beauxbatons Beaters.

“She only has the Keeper to beat now, this should be fun. If she can beat the Dark Lord-”

“JORDAN!” McGonagall roared. 

“Sorry, just saying. And has she scored? YES! SHE HAS!” He shouted, “OF COURSE SHE HAS! THAT’S TEN POINTS TO SLYTH- oh wait, no it's not. That's ten points to Hogwarts! This is confusing...” 

Ginny flew past her and high fived her, grinning broadly as the Hogwarts students cheered. Beauxbatons were back in possession but Ginny somehow managed to intercept a pass and was off down the pitch again. Lydia ducked under another Bludger and just about managed to look up again as Ginny scored. 

“That's another ten points to Hogwarts!” Lee yelled, “And Beauxbatons are back in possession! Oof, Zabini, that was a cruel Bludger from Dionne there! But he's back at it and it's like it never happened. Alright, where's the Quaffle now I can't see it...ah, that's Arquette with the Quaffle and she's going....and she's going and...that's a Bludger from Fredericks!” Lee laughed slightly, “and that's Zabini in possession. Back to Potter who's about to get hit by a Bludger from Colbert  and...oooh, that look like it hurt,”

The Bludger hit Lydia in the square of her back and she lurched forward on her broom, almost falling right off the end. She looked around and saw Ginny flying beneath her. Lydia dropped the Quaffle and Ginny caught it, shooting upwards. Groaning, Lydia pushed herself back up and tried not to act like her back was hurting. 

Zabini flew past her and Ginny threw the Quaffle to him, taking a Bludger for him. Quaffle tucked underneath his arm, he shot back down to the Beauxbatons Keeper. The closer he got to the Keeper, the louder the Hogwarts supporters became. 

“He shoots and he...SCORES! HE SCORES!” Lee Jordan yelled, “That's thirty points to zero for Hogwarts!”

An hour passed, and Beauxbatons had only scored twice. Another thirty minutes went by and Hogwarts were fifty points up. Lydia had never played such a good game of Quidditch and the Hogwarts supporters were beside themselves with glee. 

Madam Hooch blew her whistle. 

“Beauxbatons have called for a time out,” Harry said when they all touched down on the ground. He grinned at them, “Just keep on doing what you're doing until the Snitch decides to make an appearance,” 

The whistle was blown again and they kicked off the ground. It did not take long for Harry to finally find the Snitch. There was a tense moment as the two Seekers were racing for the Snitch but Lydia knew that there was no way that Harry wouldn't be able to get it. And he finally did. 

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! HOGWARTS WINS!”

Lydia landed on the ground and ran to her brother, throwing her arms around him. It might have been a small victory to some but to them, it was a sign that things wouldn't be bad forever. The rest of the team landed around them and then everyone was pouring onto the pitch. She was in too much of a good mood to notice Adeline Scrimgeour stood staring at her. 

“You're amazing!” George yelled when he ran over to her, “I can't believe you thought you weren't good enough! You're bloody amazing!” 

“Well done, dear, well done,” Mrs Weasley said, walking over to her and smiling. It was the first time Lydia had seen her smile in a long time, “I was just saying to Arthur that you and Ginny really are quite spectacular,”

“Thank-you, Mrs Weasley,” Lydia grinned. 

Ginny appeared at Lydia's shoulder, beaming and tugging at the sleeves of her robes. “Hey, someone wants to speak to me, you and Harry,” 

Harry was stood talking to two people who Lydia did not recognise but they all smiled brightly when they saw her. Ginny kissed him on the cheek when she stood next to him, but he barely reacted to it. Lydia frowned at him but quickly became distracted.

“I am Hannah Frishley and I work with the Holyhead Harpies,” the first woman said, shaking her hand, “and this is Fletcher Cretenc, he's with Puddlemere United,”

“Right...” Lydia said, slowly. 

“We’re both interested in having you play for our teams. Obviously, the Harpies are an all women's team so you might struggle there,” Hannah said to Harry, “nothing is set in stone right now. I just want the three of you to be aware that there is a possibility you could make a career out of this,” 

“Oh, right, well, thank-you,” Harry said, weakly, “Yeah, um, yeah...that's great,” 

“Brilliant!” Ginny said. 

Lydia had no idea what to say.

Dean ran over to them, waving a Hogwarts flag, “Party in the common room! Don't be late!” 

Whilst Ginny carried on asking Hannah and Fletcher one million questions, Lydia stared blankly over the top of their heads. Did she really want to go into a career that would bring her even more attention? Or did she just want to fade away into the Muggle world? She said nothing. She just accepted contact details off both Hannah and Fletcher and followed the rest of the team back into the castle, smiling despite herself. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading and thank you for all the lovely comments and the kudos, it really does mean a lot!
> 
> Also, when I was writing this I suddenly felt the urge to find out my Ilvermorny house. Apparently I’m in Pukwudgie? I honestly have no idea if that’s a good thing or not but it does not line up with my Hogwarts house. 
> 
> But, you know, there’s bigger things to worry about. 
> 
> -E


	42. Nightmare

Lydia was sat in a peculiarly bright room. It took a few moments but her eyes eventually came into focus and she realised she was in a courtroom. Confused as to why she was there, Lydia tried to stand up but there was something stopping her. She looked down and realised that unlike the last time she was in a courtroom, there were chains binding her to the chair and she couldn’t move.

“Hello?” she called out, “why am I here?”

A voice rang out across the room.

“Trial on the second of May, nineteen eighty eight. Interrogator: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,”

Lydia’s head snapped up. Professor Dumbledore was sat where Adeline Scrimgeour had been when the Death Eaters were on trial. He looked unusually grave and did not smile as he usually did when he saw her. She grew more confused. It could not be the second of May. They were now well into November.

“Professor Dumbledore?”

“Lydia Lily Potter, you stand accused of being the cause of death of over fifty innocent people. Some of whom are your close friends and family,” he said, “Do you have any defence?”

Lydia had no idea what to say. She just sat and stared at Dumbledore open-mouthed. She had no idea what was going on but she didn’t like it. She just wanted to go back home, wherever that was.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. He turned to the side and there a crowd of people who Lydia had not noticed previously were suddenly bathed in light. Bile rose up in her throat as she took them all in; Cedric, Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, Professor Babbling, Sirius, James, Lily, Lavender and more were all staring at her, hatred etched onto their faces. The doors behind Lydia burst open and she tried to turn around the best she could, but the chains were holding her in place and she only caught a glimpse of Harry, Ron, Hermione, George and the rest of the Weasley family. None of them looked particularly happy to see her.

Cedric was the first to stand up. He looked exactly as he did when he died: robes torn up and hair messy from the maze. Lydia did not want to look at him but something was keeping her rooted to the spot and she could not look away.

“You let me die,” he said, his voice full of contempt and not at all how she remembered it, “You just stood there and let Voldemort kill me. And you consider yourself some sort of hero?” He laughed a horrible laugh, “You’re no better than any Death Eater. You could barely bring yourself to duel him when he came back. You’re a coward,”

“C-Cedric, no! I’m s-sorry!” Lydia cried, “I never wanted you to die! I didn’t! I didn’t!”

“Do you ever think about me? Or my family?” Cedric asked, “It’s been three years and my dad still hasn’t recovered. Have you ever thought about him?”

Lydia could say nothing and looked away from him, only to see her mother and father stood up. At first, Lydia’s heart soared at the sight of them but the looks on their faces quickly broke it in heart. They looked disappointed.

“I sacrificed myself for you and this is what you became?” Lily asked, “God, Lydia, I hoped that you would do some good in the world but look at all these people! Look at all these families ripped apart because of you,”

“No, m-mum, please understand...this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want anyone to die, you m-must know that! I didn’t want anything like this to happen!” Lydia shouted.

Next to her, James was shaking his head.

“You were horrible to poor Harry in your sixth year, and then you became the reason people he loved died...” James sighed, “Sirius was so close to being a free man again and Remus had just had a child...”

“I never should have made you godmother. I’d rather Teddy grow up in an orphanage than have you bring him up,” Remus all but snarled, “Can you imagine what you’d be like with him?”

“Remus, I would n-never, n-never hurt Teddy!” Lydia said, her vision becoming blurry with tears, “I’d b-bring him up-“

“Worse than the Dursley’s,” Remus said, “you’d be worse than your Uncle Vernon,”

The impact of those words physically hurt Lydia like no curse ever could and she could do nothing but shake and cry. She would never treat any child like Vernon Dursley treated her and Harry. Anyone who knew her must know that. She looked around at Harry. He would stand up for her. He would shout Remus down and tell him how wrong he was. But he did not. He just took one look at Lydia and then turned his back on her.

“H-Harry?” She whispered, “H-Harry! Don’t do that! Harry!”

“Don’t speak to him!” Hermione snapped, “you weren’t exactly a good sister to him, were you?”

“Yes!” Lydia said, “yes I was! He was all I had and I was all he had!”

“Until you got to Hogwarts and he realised how true siblings treat each other,” Ron said, glaring so fiercely at her that it made her cry more, “A good sister wouldn’t blame him for the death of their godfather!”

Lydia shook her head. That argument in the Entrance Hall still haunted her. She never should have blamed his for Sirius’ death. She didn’t blame him for Sirius’ death. The only person who was to blame was Bellatrix.

Lydia’s own voice suddenly filled the room. Only it sounded more terrible than it actually did. If Lydia didn’t know any better, she would have thought that it was Bellatrix herself speaking; “I’m sorry for not believing your cracked up theory that everyone is trying to kill me but I’ll remind you that the last time you thought someone was trying to kill someone close to you, it ended up being a lie and then he actually died,”

“You’re no better than Peter Pettigrew, you know that, right?” Sirius said.

“I’m sorry, Harry! I’m sorry!” Lydia sobbed, “You k-know I don’t blame you! I don’t blame you for anything!”

Harry did not turn around to face her and Lydia’s sobbed echoed around the room. She wanted all of this to stop. She just wanted everything to go back to normal. She didn’t want her friends looking at her as though she was evil. She didn’t want her own brother to not be able to face her.

“It would have been better if you'd have just died in the Forest,” Harry said, his voice emotionless.

Another figure stood up in the stands and it was as though some invisible force was forcing her to look over. Fred Weasley was stood before her. There was no bright, mischievous grin on his face and his eyes were narrowed. He did not at all look the way that Lydia remembered.

“Fred,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry, s-so sorry,”

“You think ‘sorry’ brings me back? You think ‘sorry’ helps my mum and dad cope? Do you think it helps any of the family cope?” He spat, “I’m dead Lydia, and do you know who’s fault that is?”

“I know it’s my fault, I know it’s my fault,” Lydia sobbed, “I never should have gone back to s-school,”

“But you did, because you ever do is think about yourself,” Fred said, “And you still think George wants to marry you?”

There were footsteps and then George was stood in front of her. He was not smiling.

“He’s right, Lydia, do you really expect me to marry you after everything? After Malfoy Manor? After the Battle of Hogwarts?” He said. His words sounded like they were dripping in venom, “They tortured me for months!”

“I know, Georgie, I know...I didn’t want it to happen...I didn’t want it to happen. You know I didn’t! I didn’t want any of this to happen!”

He crouched down in front of her and took her hand. For a moment, Lydia thought that everything had gone back to normal but then he ripped the engagement ring off her finger.

“The worst thing I ever did is ask you to marry me,” He said, putting the ring in his pocket and walking away from her.

“G-George! No! Come back!” Lydia begged, “G-George! D-don’t do this! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

But he did not come back. Lydia collapsed back against the seat and the only noise was the sound of her sobs reverberating around the room. It was Dumbledore who finally broke the silence.

“All these people put their faith in you, Lydia. All these people waited and waited for you to come and save them...but when you did come, it resulted in their deaths,” Dumbledore said gravely, “And I wonder...do you think about their families? Do you think about Lavender Browns ten year old cousin who is now scared to go to Hogwarts? Do you think about little Evie Babbling who does not understand why her mother isn’t there to tuck her in at night? Do you think about Dennis Creevey and how he is now running his house at the age of sixteen because his father is too grief stricken to do so?”

Lydia could not speak. She had nothing to say. There was no amount of words in the English language that could form a good enough defence for her.

“And, I do wonder,” Dumbledore continued, “Are you really any better than Lord Voldemort himself?”

“Yes!” Lydia said, “Yes, I am, I am! I’m nothing like him!”

“We’ll take this to a vote. The Ministry has never been opposed to the death penalty before, after all,” Dumbledore said.

“D-death penalty?” Lydia stammered, “Wait! No!”

Dumbledore completely ignored her protests and turned to the jury, “All in favour?” Every single hand was raised.

The door opened again and Lydia’s scar began to burn. She looked around wildly, trying to find her wand but it was nowhere to be seen. Not that it mattered anyway, because Lord Voldemort was stood before her, his red eyes boring into her green.

“No!” Lydia yelled, “No! Get away from me! Harry! Harry! Help! Someone help me! Help me!”

Lord Voldemort did not say anything. He simply cocked his head to the side and raised his wand. Lydia tried to get away, but the chains would not budge. He opened his mouth, about to cast the spell and-

“Lydia! Lydia!”

Someone was shaking her awake but she would not open her eyes for she was convinced that Lord Voldemort was in front of her. But the hands that were on her shoulders were soft and gentle.

“Someone go and get Harry!”

There was a sound of rushing footsteps and Lydia finally opened her eyes. She was back in her dormitory and tangled up in her bedsheets. Her tears mingled with her sweat and she groped around in the darkness for her glasses and shoved them on her face. Hermione and Daphne came into focus, both looking at her with anxious glances. Lydia jerked away from Hermione, drawing her knees up to her chest and dissolving into sobs again.

“Lydia, what-” Hermione said, reaching her hand out towards her but Lydia hit her hand away from her, her heart beating like a hammer against her ribcage. Hermione quickly withdrew her hand and took a step back.

“M-my ring!” Lydia suddenly exclaimed, “M-my ring! Where is it? Where is it?” She looked down at her hands but it wasn't there.

The door opened and a very confused Harry walked in. He looked around the room and when he saw Lydia he frowned for a moment and then ran over to her. Lydia jumped off the bed and backed away from him, holding her hands out. He paused, his arms outstretched towards her.

“I’m s-sorry, I'm s-sorry,” she gasped, “Don't h-hurt me, I'm s-sorry!”

“Lyds, I'm not going to hurt you,” he said, making to move towards her again but Lydia scrambled away from him, “Lydia, what's going on?”

“I didn't want anyone to d-die! I didn't! I didn't!” She said, “I'm sorry I didn't die!”

Hermione let out a small sob and turned away from her. Daphne put her arm around her and lead her to one of the beds. Pansy Parkinson had just walked into the room and Lydia could see her staring at her with what might have been fear in her eyes. Harry waved at her to shut the door and she very quickly did. Lydia could hear the sounds of what might have been a party downstairs.

“Lydia,” Harry said, speaking very slowly and calmly, “I know you didn't want anyone to die. No one wanted anyone to die. And I did not want you to die. No one on our side did, you know that,”

Nothing that he was saying was matching up to what he had been saying in court. She did not know what she was meant to believe, if anything. Harry tried to move towards her again but Lydia jerked back again.

“N-no. You said...you said it would have just been better if I died in the Forest!” Lydia yelled.

This time, it was Harry who jerked away from her. He stared at her as though he could not quite believe that she was stood in front of him.

“I would never, never say that! I didn't want you to go the Forest! You k-know that!” He said, “I told you I didn't want you to go!” He frowned at her again, “Christ, Lydia, you just had a nightmare. It's OK, it's OK...its only a nightmare,”

“N-no,” she said, “because George said he d-didn't want to marry me! And he took my ring off m-me!” She held her hand up to prove her point.

“Lydia,” Daphne said gently, “Look, it's next to your bed...” She crossed the room and went to Lydia's bedside table, picking something off of it, “It was the Durmstrang match today, remember? And you don't wear it when you play Quidditch in case it falls off,”

“D-Durmstrang?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, the Durmstrang match. We won, remember? You scored five times. George was there and I highly doubt that he's going to call the engagement off anytime soon,”

“Nightmare?” Lydia whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “it was only a nightmare. It's midnight. You went to sleep early. Everyone else is downstairs. Dean and Seamus threw another party. You’re just confused you because you've not had one about...about, you know,” he walked towards and she let him hug her, “we’re OK, Lydia, we’re OK,”

Hermione forced her to go to the Hospital Wing and Lydia did not try to argue back. Madam Pomfrey did not ask many questions when she arrived in the Hospital Wing with Harry and Hermione. She just sighed and put her arm around her, gently leading her over to a bed at the very end of the corridor.

“Come now, Potter,” she said softly, pulling the curtains around her bed, “take this dreamless sleep potion. You’ll be alright now,”

“Madam Pomfrey, can I stay?” Harry's voice asked from behind the curtain.

“You’ll have to sleep in a chair Potter, but you may,” Madam Pomfrey replied as Lydia drifted off to sleep.

\---

“Ron! Don't eat that, it's not yours!”

“She's sleeping, she'll never know!”

Someone tutted, “You two are like an old married couple,”

“They have been since first year,” someone yawned, “they're the reason I've had a non stop headache since I was eleven,”

The door opened and there were quick footsteps hurrying over to them.

“Sorry I'm late,” a voice said, “Charlie still doesn't know the difference between Puking Pastilles and Nosebleed Nougats,”

Her eyelids felt heavy and she struggled to open them. The people around her were still having a quiet conversation. Finally, Lydia opened her eyes and her surroundings were blurry. She tried to speak but her throat was dry.

“She's awake,” someone said, “should we get Madam Pomfrey?”

“She's only woken up, Harry, she'll be alright,” someone sighed, gently brushing the hair out of her face, “Hey, Lyds,”

Lydia squinted slightly and Hermione's anxious face became clearer. She smiled slightly and handed her her glasses. Carefully, Lydia propped herself up on her elbows and pushed her glasses onto her face. Harry, Ron, Ginny and George were all sat around her bed. On her bedside, there was a mountain of sweets besides a get well card that was covered with nothing but scribbles.

“That's off Teddy,” Harry said, noticing her looking at it, “Andromeda sent it this morning,” He picked a picture up off the table and handed it to her, “That came in the card. Have you ever seen a happier baby?”

Lydia took it off him and looked at it. A now seventh month old, blue haired Teddy Lupin giggled and waved his fists at the camera. She smiled at the picture and wondered why he always kept his hair blue instead of changing it.

“How long have I been asleep? Lydia asked, her voice raspy.

“Two days,” Ginny said, “Pomfrey said that it'd be best for you to sleep it off,”

Lydia asked if it was possible to sleep off trauma but decided against it. George fluffed her pillows up and helped her sit up. Even though she knew that it had all been a dream, Lydia still couldn't look at him, terrified that she was see the same George that she had seen in her nightmare.

“Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, “If you do not feel strong enough to go and see her, I'm sure she will-”

“No, no, it's fine,” Lydia said, “I can go,”

Madam Pomfrey gave her a searching look but nodded in the end, “Very well,”

She dressed hastily and bid goodbye to the others. The corridors were completely empty for everyone was in class and no one stopped to bother her. Not even Peeves when he swooped past her, cackling at the top of his lungs. By the time she got to McGonagall’s office, she was tired again and almost slumped against the stone gargoyle that guarded the door. It did not ask for the password and instead opened immediately, letting her in.

Lydia knocked on the door and it swung open. McGonagall was sat behind her desk, quill in hand and reading through sheafs of parchment. Lydia cleared her throat and McGonagall looked up. She smiled at Lydia who did not return it. She did not feel like smiling.

“Do sit down, Lydia,” McGonagall said, indicating the chair in front of the desk, “How do you feel?”

“Tired,”

McGonagall looked at her for a moment and then nodded. “Your brother told me that you haven't had a nightmare about what happened until now,”

Lydia shook her head, “No,”

“If you feel like you are able, would you like to tell me what happened in your dream?”

She paused for a moment and then it all came spilling out of her before she could stop it. McGonagall did not interrupt her once and only nodded once Lydia had finished speaking. They were silent for a moment and then Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, shaking a tin at her.

“Have a biscuit, Potter,”

“Professor, that worked on me when I was fifteen. It isn’t going to work on me now,”

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and pushed the tin closer to her, “Don't be ridiculous. Have a biscuit,”

Lydia took one and she did so begrudgingly.

“Your father used to come to my office and talk rubbish to me just so he could have a biscuit,”

“I'm not my father,”

McGonagall raised her eyebrows slightly, “No, you are not. And neither was the man you saw in your dream. You know better than I do that nothing that was said in your dream would ever be said out loud by anyone! Did you really think that your brother, of all people, would rather you have died?”

Tears sprang to Lydia's eyes and she looked away. McGonagall sighed and shuffled the parchments on her desk.

“Lydia,” McGonagall said, this time she was speaking more softly, “Are you sure that being back at school is the best place for you to be?”

“Yes,” Lydia said firmly, “Yes. I'm where I'm meant to be,”

She could tell that McGonagall did not believe her but she did not press the issue further. Lydia didn't think that she believed what she was saying.

“Very well, Miss Potter. Take the rest of the week off your classes. I'm sure Miss Granger will keep you up to date on everything,”

“Yes, Professor. Thank-you,” Lydia said, standing up and walking towards the door.

“Oh, wait!” McGonagall called.

Lydia turned around.

“Have another biscuit,”

This time, Lydia smiled and gratefully took a biscuit.

“Thanks, Professor,”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!
> 
> I hope you're still enjoying!
> 
> -E.


	43. The White Robed Student

The bitter November winds were replaced with cold December mornings and the occasional showering of snow. It was making Quidditch practice harder than it needed to be. They usually wasted at least ten minutes at the start of every practice trying to defrost their brooms. When they eventually got in the air, the balls immediately became coated in ice and being hit by a Bludger was a lot more painful than usual. 

The next game was against Castelobruxo and Harry was hoping that the freezing weather would go in their favour. The Brazilian students were used to nicer weather, after all. Fredericks muttered that even they weren't used to the freezing cold weather, but did so out of earshot out of Harry. The further they got into the tournament, the more stressed out he got and the more likely he was to start snapping at everyone. 

This sudden change in mood from Harry wasn't going down well with Ginny, and they spent most of their evenings arguing. Even Ron couldn't be bothered getting in between them. Lydia didn't want to say anything to anyone, but she was starting to think that maybe she and Harry would be better off without each other. They had both changed too much in the months that they were apart and were no longer compatible. Though, Lydia thought as she changed out of her freezing Quidditch robes, she wasn't sure that they were ever completely compatible in the first place. Ginny had been so soon after Draco, after all. 

Lydia was also quite sure that Draco was another reason for Harry's terrible mood. There had been an interesting development in Draco's love life thanks to the appearance of the Russian student Andrei, who now spent a lot of time in the common room. Lydia could tell that Harry wasn't very appreciative of this because every time he walked into the room and saw Draco and Andrei together, he would either drop whatever he was holding or fall into a stony silence that could only be broken by either Lydia, Ron or Hermione. Lydia wasn't sure if Draco had noticed this strange behaviour, but she didn't have it in her to ask. Draco was the happiest that she'd ever seen him and she wasn't going to be the one to ruin that. 

“No more practice till Wednesday,” Harry said, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “That Andrei somehow managed to book the pitch before us and so did Castelobruxo,”

“We wouldn't want to practice at the same time as Castelobruxo, anyway,” Lydia said hurriedly, laying a hand on his arm, “because then they'd know our tactics,”

Harry's voice softened slightly, “Yeah. I guess you're right,”

He went to leave the room but then the sound of Ginny’s annoyed voice stopped him, “Are you not waiting for me?” 

“Can you not walk back to the castle yourself?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes. 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the changing room as it always did when Harry and Ginny began to argue. Ron paused in the act of pulling a jumper over his head, looking as though he wasn't sure if he should get involved. 

“Potter, I need help on my Ancient Runes essay. You've done it, haven't you?” Blaise Zabini asked her suddenly. 

“Yes,” Lydia said quickly, “Yes, I will go and help you with that now,” 

Lydia wrapped a scarf around her neck and followed Zabini out of the changing rooms just as Ginny's voice got louder. They walked in silence for a while and Lydia shoved her hands deep into her pocket as snow began to fall around them.

“You don't take Ancient Runes,” Lydia said. 

“I know, I just hate hearing those two argue all the time,” 

“You and me both,” muttered Lydia, “and he complains about Hermione and Ron!” 

“Do you ever think that maybe he'd be better off with Draco?” 

Lydia almost slipped in the snow but tried to play it off. Zabini clearly noticed and sniggered quietly. 

“You know about that?” Lydia asked quietly. 

“Draco is my best friend,” Zabini said, “I've known he's had a crush on your brother since...well, since forever really,”

“Between me and you, he would definitely be better off with Draco but...” Lydia trailed off and shrugged, “I don't think Harry's actually fully accepted that yet,” she glanced up at him, “What's the deal with this Andrei, then? Is it real?” 

“I think so,” Zabini said, “He seems nice enough. Potter isn't too pleased about it though, is he?” 

“Honestly, he's not pleased about a lot of things most of the time,” Lydia snorted, “He's not said anything to me but I can tell it's not his favourite thing that's happened this year,” 

“I'm sure they’ll both get over themselves eventually,” Zabini said, “or this could be it for the rest of all our lives,” 

“Ugh, imagine that,” Lydia said.

_ “Incendio,”  _ Zabini muttered when the reached the tapestry of Wendelin the Weird. 

She gave a shriek of laughter and Lydia rolled her eyes. That really was the most annoying thing in the world. Inside the common room, Hermione was sat with Neville. She assumed that they were talking about Headboy and Girl stuff and quickly turned her back on them. She had once made the mistake of sitting down with them when they were trying to sort out Prefect issues and she felt like she had never come away from a conversation with a bigger headache in her life. Draco and Andrei were sat in front of the fire with Daphne. Zabini rolled his eyes at Lydia and then went to join them. Lydia paused for a moment, considering going to sit with them but thought better of it. She was achy from Quidditch practice and wanted nothing more than to get in bed. 

Waving goodnight to Hermione, Lydia opened the door of the girls dormitories and slowly climbed the stairs, it felt as though the muscles in her legs were on fire. It was with great relief that she flopped backwards into her bed and closed her eyes. She knew that it was no use. Ever since she had had that nightmare, Lydia could not sleep properly. Her nightmares would always start with her loved ones telling her that they hate her and would end with Voldemort stood before her, his wand pointed at her.

And yet, she still felt as though it hadn't really hit her. Whilst she may have been dreaming about the Battle, it still seemed to be just that; a dream. It was as though it was something that only existed in her head despite the fact that she knew that it was something that had really happened. McGonagall had suggested therapy to her after one Transfiguration class, but Lydia had very quickly shut her down. She still maintained the fact that it would not help her, despite what Harry, Ron and Hermione often spoke about helpful it actually was for them. 

She snatched her engagement ring off the side and quickly slid it on her finger. It was the one part of the nightmare that had stuck in her mind. Deep down, she knew that something like that wouldn't happen, but she could still feel George yanking it off her finger. Sighing, she opened her drawer and pulled out the picture of Teddy. Maybe Remus was right, maybe she old never be able to look after him properly. But she would never, ever be like Vernon Dursley. She wondered if the Dursleys ever thought about her and Harry...

Since they had left Privet Drive on their seventeenth birthday, neither Lydia nor Harry had seen them. She had no idea where they had gone into hiding or if they were still in hiding. Kingsley had never mentioned them and Lydia had never thought to ask. Perhaps they just thought they were dead. They'd probably prefer them that way, anyway. Although, Lydia wasn't sure that Dudley would prefer them that way anymore. He had been a lot more pleasant towards the end. 

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs brought Lydia back down to earth and Lydia quickly turned her back on the door and pulled the covers over her head. Whoever it was pottered around the room for a while, yawned loudly and then left again, shutting the door behind them. She waited a few minutes and then sat back up in bed, thinking that she should probably start doing some work. 

“Bed,” Lydia decided, “Bed now, work tomorrow. Probably,”

Harry's stress about the upcoming match against Castelobruxo was pointless. The game was over very quickly; the Castelobruxo seeker was not at all used to the snow that was falling thick and fast around them and Harry caught the Snitch in about ten minutes. Lydia wished that every single Quidditch match could be this short because at least then, she wouldn't have that much work to do. 

Even the success of the match could not put Harry and Ginny in a good mood. Not whilst they were around each other, anyway. Ginny refused to go back to the common room if Harry was going and stormed away from them. Hermione groaned and hurried after her, calling for her to stop running so fast. Ron glanced at Harry, shrugged and then carried on walking to the common room with Neville. Lydia looked over at Draco who, despite the fact that Andrei was stood next to him, was grinning as though Christmas had gone early. She looked at Harry to see if he noticed this, but she was not sure that he had. 

“Let's get going, then!” Seamus said, clapping his hand together in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, “this Tournament is a great excuse for parties!”

“You'll take any excuse for a party, won't you?” Dean sighed.

“You haven't complained about it yet, have you?” 

“Ugh, stop flirting!” Daphne groaned, “it's every damn day...”

As soon as they reached the common room, Harry stomped over to Lydia's seat and sat down in it, crossing his arms and turning away from everyone. Lydia pursed her lips and glanced at Ron. 

“He's your brother,” he said quickly. 

“Your best friend!” Lydia pointed out. 

“Yeah, but Ginny's also my sister. It's weird. This is your job,” he said, pushing her towards him, “have a good night!” 

“One of these days, I'm going to kick you so hard in the face,” 

“Don't flatter yourself, Lydia, you're not nearly tall enough to do that,” Ron said. 

“You're such a dickhead,” she said, “Do you know how much a dickhead you are? It's really important to me that you know how much of a dickhead you are,” 

“What's that? I can't hear you! You're too far down!” Ron yelled. 

Rather than dignifying him with a response, Lydia slowly walked over to Harry. She grabbed a chair on her way over and dragged it behind her. Almost flattening Padma Patil with it and shouting a hurried apology to her over her shoulder, Lydia sank into the armchair and nudged Harry with her foot. He didn't look over straight away and Lydia kicked him harder. 

“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m holding Fabio!” 

“I didn't hit you in the arm, did I?”

He glared at her and then turned away. Lydia rolled her eyes and nudged him again. He gave an over exaggerated groan and then turned to look at her. She raised her eyebrows at him and he just shook his head. 

“Relationships are overrated,” he said.

“What a lovely thing to say to your engaged sister,” Lydia said lightly. 

“What would you do?” Harry asked, “What would you do if you asked someone out just because you  _ felt  _ like you had to go out with her but there was someone else who you actually want to go out with?” 

“Harry, if you like Draco, you like Draco. There's nothing wrong with that,” Lydia said quietly, “You can't help who you like,” 

“That's easy for you to say. You're not engaged to an ex-Death Eater,” Harry sighed. 

“No, but I'm engaged to a ginger,” 

He laughed quietly and shook his head, “Seriously though, people who lose their minds if the Boy who Lived had a normal boyfriend, never mind Draco Malfoy!” He said his name very quietly. 

“Harry, you killed the Dark Lord. You can do whatever you want at this point,” Lydia said quietly, “And you know that Draco isn't anymore a Death Eater than you are. He isn't his father,”

“It's so close to Christmas though,”

“What has that got to do with anything?” Lydia asked, frowning. 

“We're going to The Burrow for Christmas, aren't we?” 

“Yes,” 

“I can't break up with Ginny now! How awkward would Christmas be?” Harry groaned. 

“Would you rather have a miserable Christmas or an awkward Christmas?” Lydia said to him, “Also, H, I say this will a love in the world but I really feel like you should just swear off people for a while,” 

“Me too,” he muttered, “At least Fabio will never let me down,” 

The next morning at breakfast, Lydia was discussing their Charms homework with Hermione and Neville when Ginny walked over to them and tapped Harry on the shoulder. 

“Can I speak to you?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, that's fine,” he said, scrambling up, “we can go for a walk outside,” 

“Harry, there's practically a snowstorm out there,” Lydia said, glancing up at the ceiling of the Great Hall. 

“We’ll be fine,” Ginny shrugged. 

By the time the bell rang, neither Harry nor Ginny had returned. Lydia had a free period whilst the others were in Potions and made her way to the library with the aim to try and get as much work done as possible, but never made it thanks to Adeline Scrimgeour emerging from the shadows. Lydia sighed and turned to face her, expecting the worse. 

“Shouldn't you be in class, Miss Potter?” Scrimgeour asked in an accusatory tone. 

“No, Professor, everyone else is in Potions. I don't take Potions,” Lydia said with as much politeness as she could muster, “I was just going to the library to do some work,”

“Well, that can wait, I would like to speak to you in my office,” 

Lydia rolled her eyes at the back of Scrimgeour’s head and dejectedly followed her up to her office. The last time Lydia had been in the office of one of her Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, she had not fared well thanks to Professor Umbridge. And she highly doubted that Scrimgeour would be as nice to her as Professor Lupin had been.

“Take a seat, Potter,” Scrimgeour said. 

Lydia dropped her bag on the floor and sat at the desk. She looked around the room and was quite sure she had never been in such a bland room. Further proving Lydia's theory that Scrimgeour was the most boring Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that they had ever head. Umbridge was never great, but she was also never boring. 

“Professor McGonagall mentioned you had a nightmare,” Scrimgeour said bluntly. 

“Yes,” Lydia said stiffly, “what's that got to do with anything?” 

“You're not going mad are you, Potter?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said, you're not going mad are you?” She repeated. 

Lydia was taken aback, “No! It's normal to have nightmares!” 

“Yes, but is it normal to have nightmares to the point where you think your own brother hates you?” Scrimgeour asked. 

Lydia couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. She had never met someone with so little tact, and she had been best friends with Ron Weasley for seven years. 

“Professor, I think I've already asked you this but have you ever fought in a war?” Lydia asked. 

“I have not, Miss Potter,” 

“Then I don't think you're ever going to understand,” Lydia shrugged, “Can I go now?” 

“Not just yet, Miss Potter, there's something else I want to ask you,” 

“Lucky me,” 

“It is regarding your friendship with Draco Malfoy,” she said slowly, “I wonder, if you want nothing more than to distance yourself from Dark Magic...why are you friends with a Dark Wizard?” 

“Draco isn't a Dark Wizard,” Lydia said through gritted teeth.

“If he isn't a Dark Wizard, how do you explain the Dark Mark?” Scrimgeour asked. 

“He didn't have a choice. Surely we've already had this conversation,” Lydia snapped. 

“Unless you're both planning something... _ dark  _ together. Maybe that's why you’re so close,” 

“Or maybe we’re just friends,” 

Scrimgeour narrowed her eyes at her and Lydia could tell that she still didn't trust her. Lydia fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead just sat and waited for whatever other strange thing Scrimgeour would come out with. 

“You may go now, Potter, but rest assured I will be keeping a close eye on you,” 

“I look forward to it,” Lydia replied, picking up her bag and stomping out of the room. She made a point of slamming the door behind her and was in such a bad mood that she managed to forget that she was meant to be going to the library and ended up on the wrong side of the castle. 

Thanks to the weather, their Herbology lesson was cancelled and Lydia made her way back to the common room which was practically full. She spotted Harry sat with Hermione sat in the very corner of the room, there heads bent close together. 

“Hey,” she said, pulling up a chair, “where's Ron?” 

“In the library desperately trying to get his Transfiguration homework done,” Hermione said, “Probably for the best anyway,” 

“Why?” 

Hermione glanced at Harry who sighed and then said, “Me and Ginny broke up,” 

“I have so many questions,” Lydia said, “tell me everything,” 

He shrugged, “I don't know. She just said that she didn't think we worked out anymore. And I said that she was definitely right and that was that,” 

“I think it's for the best,” Lydia said. 

“Also, Draco's single again. Him and Andrei didn't quite work out,” Hermione said casually. When she saw the look on Harry's face, she held her hands up, “I just thought that it's an interesting fact for everyone involved,” 

“It's an interesting fact for one of us because two of us are in relationships. And even if we weren't, Draco is gay,” Lydia pointed out, “So, really, just an interesting fact for Harry,” 

“I’m not talking about this anymore,” Harry said bluntly. 

“No, because you're too busy staring at Draco from afar,” 

“Hermione, I swear to god!” 

 

\---

It was very hard to concentrate on the Japan versus Russia match when Ron was laughing very loudly next to Lydia. She could understand why he was laughing so much; the Russians really did look quite amusing playing on uprooted tree trunks but she kept on missing goals to turn to glare at him. Harry kept on punching him on the arm to shut him up but it was no use. Tears were actually streaming down his face and he collapsed back into his seat, clutching his stomach. 

Lydia rolled her eyes and turned back to the match. Draco was sat next to her, his arms folded as he watched Andrei circle the pitch like hawk, trying to find the Snitch. She wondered if he would find it awkward when Hogwarts and Russia played against each other. After all, two of his ex-boyfriends would be racing to find the Snitch. 

She scanned the pitch for the Japanese Seeker who was circling just below Andrei. Whenever she watched a Quidditch match, she was always reminded of how happy she was to not be the Seeker. She was more than happy to just have to worry about the Quaffle and the Snitch. 

There was a loud groan from the Russian supporters as Andrei was taken out by a particularly vicious Bludger from one of the Japanese supporters. The Japanese side of the stadium was getting louder as louder as their Seeker began to circle the pitch even more. Now there was very little chance that Mahoutokoro would lose the match and Lydia suddenly found the whole thing very boring. 

Half an hour later, the Mahoutokoro Seeker pulled off a very steep dive and caught the Snitch. The supporters at the Mahoutokoro side of the stadium erupted into cheers. Lydia joined in if not to drown out the sound of Ron laughing. She did not think that he had actually saw any of the match and probably had no idea who had actually won. 

Whilst the Japanese students poured onto the pitch, Lydia followed Ron and Hermione back up to the castle. Ron was still laughing and was now holding onto Hermione for support. Lydia rolled her eyes at him. 

“What's going on with the Quidditch team?” Lydia asked Harry. 

They had no more matches until after Christmas and Harry had finally slowed down on practices, though that might have been because he felt awkward around Ginny. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

“I mean because of Ginny,” Lydia said slowly. She glanced around to make sure that Ginny was not in earshot. 

“She's still playing,” Harry said, “We talked about it. There's no point in ruining Quidditch for one us, is there?” 

When they walked into the Entrance Hall, there was a great gasp and someone screamed. Lydia and Harry glanced at each other and then hurriedly pushed through the crowd, Ron and Hermione right behind them. In the doors of the Great Hall, there were three Japanese students. Two of them were wearing silver robes whilst one was wearing white robes. The two silver robed students had their wands pointed at the white robed student and Lydia could not quite understand why. 

“Hey, what's going on?” Harry asked, walking forward. 

“Harry, no!” Hermione exclaimed, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, “when a Mahoutokoro student has performed Dark Magic, their robes turn white!” 

Lydia saw the wand move and she acted on instinct. She whipped her wand out of her bun and yelled,  _ “Protego!”  _ The white robed students spell rebounded off it and cracked against one of the walls. The other two students screamed and jumped out of the way. It was only when another curse came soaring towards her that Lydia realised how out of practice she actually was at duelling. 

_ “Stupefy!”  _

The Japanese student lazily flicked her wand and the spell died in mid air. Lydia threw a shield charm up in front of a group of first years who were standing dangerously close to the line of fire. They all screamed and staggered backwards. 

_ “Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus! Flipendo!” _

Every spell that Lydia cast was easily deflected and she was started to get frustrated. She knew one million other ways that she could end this duel quickly but with Adeline Scrimgeour possibly being in the room, Lydia did not want to risk doing something stupid. Then she had a faint memory of ducks. 

_ “Anaticula!”  _

Lydia giggled as a the white robed student tried to stun her, but could only produce ducks who waddled towards her. Harry dived in front of her. 

_ “Stupefy!”  _

A jet of red light hit the student in the chest and they flew backwards. McGonagall burst from the crowd and quickly cast  _ Petrificus Totalus.  _ Two more Mahoutokoro students ran forward and picked the white robed student up, apologising to McGonagall and anyone who would listen profusely. Lydia lowered her wand and began to shake as the room started spinning. 

Harry ran towards her and caught her just as her knees gave way. Duelling had brought back horrible memories of all the duels that she never wanted to be in. Professor Sprout appeared in front of the two of them and gently lead them away from the crowd. People muttered and stared at them but parted so that they could get through. Lydia was doing her best to not start crying. She was quite fed up of crying.

Without realising it, they were in Professor McGonagall’s office. The door of the office opened and then was slammed shut and for a moment, Lydia thought that McGonagall was angry at them for duelling. 

“I want to apologise to the both of you for having to go through something like that again,” McGonagall said, “I don't know why the responsibility of duelling Dark Wizards constantly falls on the shoulders of two teenagers, but it has got to stop,” 

Lydia looked up from her knees and above McGonagall’s chair where Professor Dumbledore's portrait was hanging. He was not in his frame. Lydia was not sure that she had seen him in his frame since after the Battle had ended and Harry broke the Elder Wand. 

“I mean, we are used to it at this point,” Harry murmured. 

“But you shouldn't be!” McGonagall snapped. She stood up from her chair and tore her hat off her head, throwing it onto her desk. Lydia was shocked. She was not sure she had ever seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this, “For  _ years _ , you two have been expected to deal with things that even the most skilled wizards would not be able to! And now, you've finished! The war is over! And yet people still expect more than they ever should from you!” 

The door opened and McGonagall froze mid sentence. Lydia turned around in her chair to see Adeline Scrimgeour stood in the doorway, looking grave. Lydia turned back to the front and rolled her eyes. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Minerva. I just had to send an owl to the Ministry to make them aware of what is happening,” Scrimgeour said, “And, I think that I should be at the forefront of this investigation,” 

“You're a teacher, Adeline. You have enough on your plate as it is,” McGonagall said stiffly, “I'm sure there is someone at the Ministry who can lead this investigation,” 

“Minerva, don't be ridiculous. As Head of Magical Law Enforcement  _ and  _ Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, I am more than qualified to lead this investigation!” Scrimgeour said, “I shall question the student in question and I think, after Christmas, I will want to question Lydia and Harry-”

“You will do no such thing!” McGonagall snapped, “you have already questioned Lydia once and you will not do so again. And if you even  _ try  _ and speak to Harry outside of the classroom, you will be out of this castle before you know it!” 

Scrimgeour glared at her and swept from the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Lydia was quite touched by McGonagall's outburst and wondered how different school would have been if McGonagall had been Headmistress all along.

“Unfortunately, she probably will end up leading the investigation,” McGonagall sighed, “but I'll make sure that she doesn't question either of you,” 

“Honestly, Professor, I would rather be murdered than have Scrimgeour being anywhere near me ever again,” Harry said. 

“We all would, Potter. We all would,” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I couldn’t sleep last night so ended up writing this instead and then ended up falling asleep at like 4 but that’s fine, it’s not like I have stuff to do today.
> 
> (I have so much to do today, please kill me) 
> 
> -E.


	44. Christmas

On the last day before they broke for Christmas, Lydia dragged herself up to the Owlery clutching a letter that Bill had sent Ron telling him to invite whoever he wanted to The Burrow for Christmas. It was not a day that Lydia was looking forward to for the first time since she was ten years old. At the Dursleys, Christmas usually meant being ignored and having to eat the scraps that the rest of the family didn't want. At The Burrow usually, Christmas was completely different - until now. The last time that Lydia had been there it had been for Fred's funeral and it was a completely different house. She did not think that it had bounced back to the the place that she knew and loved since. From what she could gather from Bill’s letter, he and Fleur were still running the house whilst Mr and Mrs Weasley dealt with the loss of one of their children. 

An icy wind blew through the open windows of the Owlery and owls sought shelter underneath their wings. The room was empty with the exception of Draco, who was bent over a letter, scribbling furiously. She froze on the threshold, not wanting to interrupt. He was writing so quickly that he looked angry; his face was screwed up into an ugly sneer and the hand that wasn't holding the quill was balled up into a fist.

He must have heard her come in, because he looked up and his face relaxed slightly. Lydia smiled tentatively at him and she called down one of the school owls, taking out a letter that she had written for Andromeda. As far as she was aware, Andromeda no longer had any family outside of Teddy and Lydia did not like the thought of her spending Christmas alone. Once she had attached the letter to the owl and it had taken flight, she turned back round to Draco. 

“Are you OK?” 

“It's nothing,” he said dismissively, “My father sent me a letter from Azkaban and...” an ugly look came across his face, “he was the receiver of bad news, apparently,” 

Lydia had no idea what he was going on about and just nodded.

“I told him I was gay,” he said bluntly, “and, well...you know what my family is like...” he laughed quite an awful laugh and quickly rolled the parchment up, calling an owl over to him. He shook his head, “Apparently, I'm giving the family a  _ bad name _ . As if we could ever have a good name after what he did...what I did...”

“You're not a bad person, Draco,” Lydia said, quietly, “You know you're not,” 

“I'm not quite sure about that one, Lydia,” he said, taking the owl to the window, “Not that it matters, anyway. I'm not meant to be around good people. People like you, you know?” 

“I don't think I'm a good person, actually,” she said, “I actually think I'm a pretty shitty person. You know, I had to convince myself not to use Dark Magic on that Mahoutokoro student the other day,” 

Draco looked at her for a moment, “Yeah, but you convinced yourself not to, didn't you? I don't know if I'd be able to do,” he sighed, “I don't know why I'm depressing you, Lydia, it's Christmas!” He didn't seem very happy about that.

“Hey, Draco, wait, what are you doing for Christmas this year?” Lydia asked as he went to leave the room. 

“I'm spending it at home with my mother. It's going to be a quiet one,” 

“Do you...do you maybe want to come to The Burrow?” She held up Bill’s letter, “We’re trying to invite as many people as possible to distract from the fact that there's...people missing,”

He smiled at her and then shook his head, “Thank-you but, no. I don't think my presence would be all that appreciated,” 

“Well, the offers there,” she said, “just let me know,” 

When she eventually got back to the common room, Draco was sat at the fire alone. She didn't go over to him and sat with Daphne and Hermione, both of whom seemed very giggly. Harry and Ron were watching on, shaking their heads and looking bemused. 

“What's going on?” Lydia asked. 

Daphne turned to her and beamed, “Orville just sent me a letter and asked me to meet up with him over Christmas!” 

“Who?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes and hit her in the arm, “Urquhart!”

“Oh, yeah...I forget that that isn't his full name,” Lydia said but then she grinned, “that's great! I think...its is great, isn't it?”

“It is great,” Harry interjected. When Hermione gave him a funny look, he shrugged, “What? I'm allowed an opinion on these things as well!” 

“Even though you're the only single one here,” Ron said.

Harry retaliated by throwing a cushion at him. 

It was with some trepidation that Lydia walked up the path to The Burrow the next day. Bill was waiting for them at the door and seemed to overcompensate in the way that he said hello to them. Lydia had a feeling that he was forcing himself to be cheerful for the rest of the family. She wondered if he had time to mourn properly. Mr Weasley was not home. He had started working longer hours and, according to Fleur, wasn't at home that much. Mrs Weasley was sat at the kitchen table. Percy was sat on her other side in silence. She barely seemed to notice anyone else in the room and left the kitchen soon after. 

“W-where's Charlie and George?” Ginny asked in an attempt to distract from the awkwardness. 

“Work,” Bill said. He looked at his watch, “They should be home at around seven...they're closing the shop for Christmas after today,” 

A silence fell over the kitchen again. Percy cleared his throat.

“Good term?” 

“Yeah,” Ron said, “It's - it's been alright,” 

Lydia looked at the floor. Hermione shuffled from one foot to the other, looking awkward.

“We should probably go and put our things upstairs,” Harry said finally. 

“Yes,” Hermione said, “Yes. We should go and do that,”

Lydia had been right, The Burrow had degenerated into the empty shell of what had once been a vibrant house. It resembled Grimmauld Place and Lydia did not like to be reminded of that place. Walking through the house very much felt like walking through a funeral parlour. They spoke in hushed tones and the task of putting up the Christmas decorations fell into the hands of Lyia and Hermione. They weren't as good as they usually were, but no one felt very Christmassy. Ron spent most of his time outside of the house with Harry, George and Charlie. Percy could usually be found sat with Mrs Weasley, keeping her company. 

Hermione stood at the kitchen window, watching the boys have a vicious snowball fight whilst Lydia sat at the table, slowly working through a very complicated essay for Professor McGonagall. She had a terrible headache but was refusing to let that stop her from actually getting something done for once. It was also a good way to distract herself from the absence of Fred. The house was eerily silent without him and Lydia pretended not to notice Mrs Weasley knitting a Christmas jumper with the letter ‘F’ on it. 

The one thing that she could not seem to distract herself from was the Mahoutokoro student. Neither McGonagall nor Scrimgeour had said anything more about it but that had not stopped the rest of the school from doing so. Lydia had not appreciated being the centre of attention again thought she had noticed an increase in ducks around Hogwarts. There was something strangely comforting about having a duck serenely sat on your desk in a Charms lesson.

Since the ‘incident’ (as it was being referred to) had happen, Harry had dissolved into a state of paranoia. He was convinced that there were still people out there to get them. Lydia tried to act as though the whole thing hadn't terrified her but she couldn't help but jump at every noise she heard and see figures moving in the darkness of her bedroom. The reasonable part of her knew that no Dark Wizard would try anything so soon after the war. They had next to no power and would most certainly be outnumbered, but she very rarely listened to the reasonable part of her mind. 

Lydia put her quill down and pushed her essay away from her. She joined Hermione at the kitchen window and watched as George launched a snowball at Charlie's head. If there was another war, there was no way that she and George would be able to stay together. She had already put him through more than enough and especially after the Battle and Fred and Malfoy Manor...

“Stop worrying,” Hermione said, making her jump. 

“What?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “You're worried that there's going to be another Voldemort, aren't you?” 

“Aren't you?” Lydia asked. 

“No,” said Hermione firmly, “no, I don't think there is. Lydia, there's always going to be idiots who are obsessed with the Dark Arts, but they have next to power now!” 

“What happens if something does happen, though?” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Lyds, but I really don't think that we’ll come to that bridge ever again,” Hermione said gently. 

Lydia nodded, “Yeah, I guess you're right,” 

“I usually am,” 

On Christmas Eve morning, a surprise in the shape of Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived at The Burrow. Lydia had been sat with George and Charlie, watching them play Exploding Snap and wondering if someone was going to try and kill her when he walked into the room and asked if he could speak to her. It was at that moment that Lydia was quite sure that someone was definitely trying to kill her and did her best to put on a brave face. 

They walked into the kitchen where a very anxious Harry was sat. He was drumming his fingers against the table and jumped when they walked in. It was strangely comforting to know that she wasn't the only who was contrived that someone was it to kill them. Then again, Lydia wasn't sure that there had ever been a time in their lives when someone wasn't out to kill them. 

“I thought you would appreciate seeing me instead of Adaline Scrimgeour,” Kingsley said, sitting down opposite Harry. 

“I don't think there's anyone who I want to see less,” Harry muttered. 

“We’ve questioned the Mahoutokoro student,” Kingsley began, “and they're very adamant that they're working alone and also weren't out for you two,” 

“Are you sure?” Lydia asked. 

“Quite sure,” Kingsley reassured her, “They knew very little about Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, actually. Just an idiot kid thinking he's big and clever. You’re both safe,” he added, seeing the look on their faces, “I know what you've been through and I swear you’ll never have to again,” 

“So the investigation,” Harry said, “it's over?”

Kingsley sighed, “It should be, but Scrimgeour is convinced that there's something more going on and isn't giving up. She is under strict instruction to not speak to either of you two though. There is nothing to worry about, I can assure you that,” 

Lydia wasn't completely convinced but it would be enough to to get her through Christmas.

When the morning rolled round, Lydia almost didn't want to get out of bed. There had been an unspoken agreement in the house that there would be no presents. No one felt like buying one last present. She rolled over and gently nudged George. He was already awake and just staring at the ceiling. 

“Are you alright?” 

It took him a minute but he finally turned to face her, smiling ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, “Merry Christmas, Lyds,” 

“Merry Christmas, George,” she paused, “Just to clarify, we did say no presents didn't we?” 

He looked offended, “No! You-you didn't get me anything?” 

“W-what? I mean - must have left it at Hogwarts or - or, you're joking aren't you?” 

He grinned at her. 

“I dislike you sometimes,” 

Breakfast was a very subdued affair. There wasn't a lot of Christmas cheer in the air and Lydia was desperate to get out of the house but there was not a lot to do on Christmas Day. Lydia and Harry had learned that the hard way after living at Privet Drive and wanting to be anywhere but in the house. 

“Fred, dear, could you pass me the milk?” Mrs Weasley asked. 

Lydia felt George tense up next to her and she quickly looked up at Mrs Weasley who looked mortified. The room became very still and no one seemed to want to be the one to break the silence. Ginny stood up and left the room and they heard her running up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

“I'm George mum, remember?” He said with an air of fake cheerfulness, “I’ve only got one ear. That's the best way to tell us apart,”

“Y-yes, of course,” Mrs Weasley said, taking the milk off George, “That's the best way to tell you apart,” 

Lydia squeezed George’s hand under the table and he smiled at her. 

“I'm OK,” he whispered. 

After breakfast, Lydia and George went on a walk. The house was somehow becoming more and more depressing as the morning wore on and it was quite painful. Wrapped up in scarves and jumpers, they walked into the village. Lydia had never been there before and it just looked like a very boring version of Hogsmeade. As snow began to fall around them Lydia realised that it was exactly one year to the day that they had gone to Godric's Hollow

“This time last year, I was in Godric's Hollow with Harry and Hermione,” Lydia said. 

“A year goes by very quickly, doesn't it?” He said, “A lot can change,” 

“Yeah,” Lydia agreed, “more than a lot,” 

“What actually happened whilst you were there?” He asked quietly.

She sighed, “I don't really know. We went to see my where my mum and dad are buried, and we put some flowers down. And..and, oh, George, there's a statue of us!” She laughed, “It's ridiculous! There's a statue of the four of us,” 

He smiled, “I know. I saw it at your dads funeral. I didn't want to mention it though. Sometimes I forget that you had a normal life at one point. You know...” his eyes travelled to her scar, “you weren't the Girl who Lived,”

“We saw the house,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder, “they didn't knock it down,” 

“Has it been refurbished?” 

“No, it's the exact same as it was,” Lydia replied, “you can see where the Curse rebounded in our nursery. Where she...you know,” 

“How different do you think things would have been if that never happened?” George asked, “If you'd have had a normal life?” 

“I don't think I would have encountered as many dragons,” Lydia said, “Three dragons! Who needs to be in the presence of that many dragons?” 

“Charlie,” George said, “He probably considers a day wasted if he doesn't see at least three,”

Lydia laughed, “Yeah,” 

“Can I have your ring?” He asked suddenly. 

Lydia jerked away from him, the nightmare coming hurtling to the forefront of her mind again. Was he really about to break up with her? Did he take her out of the house just so he wouldn't have to do it in front of everyone else? He looked at her frowning. 

“Oh, no, Lyds, I'm not calling the engagement off,” he said hurriedly, “if anything, I'm calling it on more,” when she frowned at him, he smiled, “Just trust me, OK?” 

Hesitantly, Lydia took the ring off her finger and handed it over to him. He grinned at her. 

“The other day, I was serving this customer and she was telling me about how her boyfriend proposed to her,” he said, “and she was going on and on about he got down on one knee and there was a band playing and all that, and I realised that I never proposed to you properly. I never actually asked you to marry me. 

Lydia raised her eyebrows at him, “it was in the subtext,” 

“And I can't be bothered getting a band, I'll be honest with you,” he said, “but, I'm not against the getting down on one knee,” he smiled sheepishly at her, “and then, this girl even said that her boyfriend had asked for her dad's blessing and I’ve been around Hermione enough to know that that's probably sexist,” 

“Probably,” Lydia shrugged. 

“And I couldn't ask your dad so I thought I'd ask Harry and he just looked at me like I was mad and then said, ‘it's not got anything to do with me,’ but I felt like the sentiment was there so...” He got down on one knee, “Lydia Lily Potter, you're my favourite person in the whole world, will you marry me?” 

She laughed and nodded, “Obviously,” 

He grinned and put the ring back on her finger, kissing her. Someone bursting into applause pulled them apart and they turned around to see an old muggle couple, smiling at them. 

“Congratulations, dears,” the woman smiled, “I remember when Bert proposed to be when we were around your age,” 

Bert nodded, “There was a war going on and I thought that it was now or never. Congratulations,” 

“Thank-you,” George said, grinning, “It's actually the second time we've gotten engaged. The first time we fought in a war and I thought that it was now or never. Didn't do it properly though,”

“I hope you're both very happy,” the woman said, “Come on, Bert, you know what Maisie gets like when we’re late,” 

Lydia watched them go. She wasn't sure that they were happy now, but she knew for sure that they would get there somehow. Back at The Burrow, the mood seemed to have lightened. Even Mrs Weasley was smiling at whatever story Harry was telling, though Hermione kept on rolling her eyes at him behind his back. It didn't take Lydia long to realise that he was telling Mrs Weasley about how obsessed Hermione had been with Professor Lockhart that year. 

“Were you obsessed with Lockhart?” George asked her. 

“You jealous or something?” 

“Obviously not,” he said. 

“No, I wasn't. I was too busy trying to convince people that I wasn't killing Muggleborns,” she shrugged, “bit of a disaster of a year, really,” 

“Every year was a disaster of a year for you,” 

“Nah, third year wasn't that bad,” Lydia corrected him, “it was the first time that the murderer wasn't actually going after us,”

There was a knock on the door and Mr Weasley jumped up at once, muttering something about Andromeda. Moments later, he came back into the room followed by Andromeda who was pushing a pram. There was a great deal of movement as everyone went to greet her and obsess over Teddy. Lydia hung back slightly as Harry picked Teddy up and started speaking to him as though he was an adult who could understand him. She was quite sure that he was talking to him about Quidditch. 

Lydia turned her attention away from Harry and Teddy and looked at Andromeda, wincing slightly. Since the last time she'd seen her, she'd lost a lot of weight and looked frail. There were deep bags under her eyes and her hair seemed to be thinking. The more Lydia looked at her, the more she realised that she was looking like her sister, Bellatrix.

“She’s ill,” Hermione whispered in her ear, “I'm sure of it,”

If it was a serious illness, Andromeda did not show it. She was as happy and joyful as anyone could be in her situation and was a great help to Bill and Fleur in the kitchen who had definitely bitten off more than they could chew with cooking Christmas dinner for the whole family. Though she was in a better mood, Lydia did not think that Mrs Weasley was quite ready to start cooking her usual feasts. The day she did start cooking again would probably be the happiest day of Lydia's life, and possibly Ron's. 

Whilst everyone was setting up in the kitchen, Lydia slipped away from the crowd and found Teddy sleeping in the sitting room. When she walked through the door, he opened his eyes and started crying. She froze, staring at him and then decided that the best thing to do would be to pick him up. 

“Hi, hi,” she said quietly, “shhh, shhh, don't cry, you have nothing to cry about,” she froze again and then realised that he had a lot to cry about. He was an orphan, just like she and Harry were, “you're lucky having a grandma like Andromeda...I never knew my grandparents or my parents, not properly, anyway...” He stopped crying and instead became very interested in her hair, “but you'll know who exactly who your parents are...you won't get some garbled version from people who have no idea. You'll know exactly how brave and amazing your parents were,”

He looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Your mum, was one of the funniest people I knew. She always knew what face to pull when we needed a good laugh,” Lydia told him, “she was a bit clumsy from time to time, but that's what so good about her...and your dad...” Lydia grinned at him, “your dad was the greatest man I ever knew. He was brave and caring and the best teacher I ever had...he taught me how to fight Dementors,” 

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as Teddy’s hair turned from it’s usual blue to the same light brown as Remus’ hair was. She had never before realised how much he looked like his father. 

“If you become even half the people your parents were, you'll probably take over the world,” Lydia whispered.

The door opened and George walked in. He beamed when he saw Teddy and took him out of Lydia’s arms. Teddy took one look at him and changed his hair to a bright red colour. 

“Do you think we could ever have a family?” Lydia asked. 

“Eventually,” George said, “but we should probably get married first,” 

“Yeah, probably,” Lydia said.

”Oh, wait, Christmas tradition...” George said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled something out of it. Lydia grinned, already knowing that it was a branch of mistletoe. 

“You know, you can kiss me whenever. You don’t need mistletoe as an excuse,”

”Not nearly as romantic though, is it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I felt like this had been really depressing for ages so thought I’d give them all a break for once. 
> 
> Hope you’re still enjoying and thank-you for all the kudos! 
> 
> -E.


	45. Astronomy Tower

Lydia returned to Hogwarts in a much better mood than she had left it. When she got to the common room, she was smiling so much that Neville actually came over to her and asked if she was still drunk from Christmas. The smile melted off her face when she saw Draco sat in the very corner of the room with Zabini, tears streaming down his face. Something told her that he didn't have a very good Christmas and did not feel like it was her place to intrude. With her luck, she would probably say the wrong thing and make him feel even worse. 

To make things even better for Lydia, the incident with the Mahoutokoro student seemed to have become a lot less interesting over the three week break. Barely anyone spoke about it and Lydia felt as though she could walk through the school without having to look over her shoulder. Even Adaline Scrimgeour wasn't bothering her and that was nothing short of a miracle.

Though, Matthew Derrick seemed to be going out of his way to make her life at Hogwarts a living hell. He liked to turn up at Quidditch practice and talk about how bad of player she was, whilst saying that he could fly better with his eyes closed. He also seemed to have befriended Millicent Bulstrode, which would have been fine if he didn't spend a lot of time in the eighth year common room. Whenever she walked in and saw him sat there, she considered taking a leaf out of the Muggles from the Middle Ages book and set herself on fire. 

Still, she refused to let him ruin her day, choosing instead to ignore any snide comments he felt the need to make. Lydia had the sneaking suspicion he was doing it to see how good of a dueller she was, but did not want to give him the satisfaction of finding out. It was somewhat of a shame, though. She would have liked nothing more than to Stupefy him. The very thought was enough to allow her to produce a Patronus, and a very strong one at that. 

There was, however, an underlying tension knotted up in Lydia's chest. She put it down to nerves for the upcoming Quidditch match against Ilvermorny that was fast approaching. The thought of beating Matthew Derrick on the Quidditch pitch and proving that she was a good Quidditch player would make her the happiest person alive, but she felt like there was more to it. Andromeda’s frail frame seemed ingrained in her mind. She resembled what Lydia had looked like after she had been on the run for ten months, and it really wasn't a good look. Ron said that she probably wasn't ill, and just looked bad because she had to look after Teddy on her own. 

“Mum and Dad were on a nightmare bringing us lot up!”

“They're still on a nightmare,” Harry muttered, but only so Lydia could hear. He cleared his throat and stood up, “Anyway, I'm off,” 

“Where?” Lydia asked. 

“Library,” he replied. 

Ron raised his eyebrows at him, “Alright,  _ Hermione _ ,”

“Sorry for wanting to pass my NEWTs,” Harry said, “See you,”

“He's up to something,” Ron decided, flopping down onto the couch. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Him wanting to pass his exams doesn't meant he's up to something,”

“No, but him being Harry James Potter means that he's up to something,” Ron said. 

Whatever Harry was (or was not) up to did not remain a subject of interest for long for he became quite annoying again. They had Quidditch practice at least three times a week and it always lasted almost five hours. Lydia returned to the common room every night tired and achy, but could not go straight to sleep for her pile of homework was getting bigger and bigger with every passing day. If it weren't for Hermione and the fact that she was always waiting for them with essay help and access to much better notes than any of them could ever hope of writing. 

“Hermione, I don't think Sprout ever mentioned this in class,” Lydia said, shoving one of her notes under her nose. 

“No, she didn't. I just did a bit extra research after class,” Hermione replied, “Hey - Harry, where are you going?” 

“For a shower,” he said, “great Merlin, do I have to tell you where I'm going constantly?” 

“Obviously not,” Hermione said, “You're just being weird,” 

“Says the girl who does extra research after class,” Harry said, “Now, I'm going for a shower, as is my right,”

“Up to something,” Ron said in a sing song voice.

“Yes, showering, by the sounds of it,” Lydia said absentmindedly. 

On the morning of the match, Lydia felt as though she had never been so nervous about a match. To make matters worse, Ginny pointed out two more scouts from the Tutshill Tornados and the Wimbourne Wasps. She could barely stomach any breakfast and was quite happy when Harry suggested that they go to the changing ooms to get ready.

“Right,” Harry said, once they were all dressed, “I don't have anything against Ilvermorny as a whole, but I really, really dislike Matthew Derrick. If we don't win this match, I might lose my mind,” 

“No pressure then,” Ron said, “You're the Seeker, in case you've forgotten,”

“Yes, but if we want to stay where we are in the table, I can only catch when we're fifty points up,” he turned to Lydia, Ginny and Zabini, “Don't let them get their hands on the Quaffle,”

“We know how to win a game of Quidditch, brother dear,” Lydia said, “Stop panicking,” 

“You say that like you're not panicking,”

“I'm always in a constant state of panic and you know that,”

Lee Jordan's voice filled the stadium, speaking over the sound of the cheering crowds but Lydia didn't pay him attention. She was too busy focusing on not throwing up in front of everyone. Matthew Derrick would probably have found the entire thing so hilarious and that would be enough to put anyone in a bad mood for the rest of their lives. She watched as Harry and Derrick tried to break each others fingers as they shook hands whilst trying not to think about how many eyes were on her; specifically Adeline Scrimgeour. 

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Lydia kicked off the ground, the wind whipping through her robes. She heard Ginny shout her name and Lydia spun around just as Ginny threw the Quaffle towards her. Before Lydia could even hold up her hands to try and catch it, it had flown over her head and straight into the hands of one of the American chasers.

Derrick flew past her, grinning, “Bad luck, Potter!”

Fuming, Lydia sped down the pitch to join Ginny and Zabini. The two of them seemed to be working in perfect harmony and Lydia could not keep up. Whenever the Quaffle was thrown to her, she would either completely miss it or she would drop it the moment she got her hands on it. They were only twenty points up and showed no sign of improvement. The fact that Lydia's mind kept on flitting back and forth between the scouts, Derrick and Scrimgeour was not helping her, either.

“That's Potter with the Quaffle,” Lee Jordan called and she finally caught it and tucked it under her arm, “And she's off! Only got the Keeper to beat now and...ah...bad luck, Lydia, bad luck. There's always next time,” 

If there was a next time, it did not seem to be during that match. Things only got worse from then on. She barely got her hands on the Snitch and only just managed to get out of the way of Bludgers as they came hurtling towards her. As the first hour of the match passed, Lydia came to the horrific realisation that the Ilvermorny Beaters were now ignoring her; a sure sign that she was playing terribly and didn't see her as a threat. Ginny and Zabini were suffering because of this and Lydia wasn't sure that they would be able to keep it up much longer. 

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and sighing Lee Jordan spoke to the crowd, “And that's a timeout,” 

Lydia touched back down onto the ground and stormed over to the rest of the team on the sidelines. None of them looked very happy and she threw her broom to the ground, turning on Harry who actually took a step back from her.

“Reserves!” Lydia snapped, “Why didn't you get reserves!” 

“Because I trust my team!” He yelled, “You included! And I don't know what's up with you, but you need to sort your shit out!” 

“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, dickhead!” Lydia snarled. 

He opened his mouth to respond but Ron punched him in the arm and he shut up, instead turning to glare at Ron instead. 

“You two arguing solves nothing!” He snapped, “Lydia, you're having a crap game, just pull yourself together and start scoring goals like you normally do,” 

Lydia continued glaring at Harry for a moment and then conceded defeat. She snatched her broom of the ground and nodded, “Fine,” she said, “Fine! But after this game, you're getting reserves,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, “Whatever,” 

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and they were back in the air again, which was the last place that Lydia wanted to be. Despite Ron's odd pep talk, Lydia was somehow playing worse and she pretended not to notice that Ginny and Zabini were not passing her the Quaffle. She just awkwardly hovered behind them and considered throwing herself in front of a Bludger so that she could get out of playing the rest of the game. What she really needed was Harry to catch the Snitch so that she could go and lock herself in the dormitories and never speak to anyone again. 

“POTTER!” Zabini yelled, chucking the Quaffle towards her, “DON’T FUCK THIS UP!” 

“And that's Potter with the Quaffle...again. And she's past the Beaters though they don't seem to be doing anything anyway and...ohh, that's back to Weasley - no, it's back to Potter, great Merlin, that was fast,” Lee yelled, “And - and....she's only got the Keeper to beat...and SHE’S DONE IT! That's fifty-twenty to Hogwarts!” 

Harry sped past her, beaming, “You've finally woken up,” 

“Piss off,” 

Lydia's luck did not last long. After scoring, she got even worse and she did not think that that was possible. Even Madam Hooch was shaking her head disappointedly at her whenever she missed the Snitch. It was as though she had never played Quidditch in her life and had been thrown headfirst into the deep end. There was a particularly bad moment when she got the Quaffle and the Bludger mixed up and tried to catch the Bludger.

It was with a great wave of relief that Madam Hooch finally blew the whistle after Harry had just about beaten Derrick to the Snitch. Lydia did not join in with her teams celebrations and instead headed straight for the ground. Harry and Ron were on her tail and they did not speak once as they walked to the changing rooms. Lydia heard Hermione run up to them but she did not turn around. She did not want to speak to anyone. 

She was not sure that she had ever been so embarrassed in her life. The entire school and more had been there to watch her make a fool of herself on the Quidditch pitch. She hated to think what those scouts would think. Not that it mattered, anyway, she obviously wasn't made for professional Quidditch. Tears suddenly filled her eyes and she frowned, why was she upset about that? Did she actually want to play Quidditch professionally? 

“I guess those last couple of games were a bluff then,” 

Lydia spun around and saw the last person she wanted to see; Matthew Derrick. He was smirking in a way that made her want to punch him. 

“Fuck off, Derrick,” Ron snapped, “she's a better player than you,” 

“You're only saying that because she's your friend, dude. I don't deny that her brothers got some talent, but she's just shit,” he said, “they've only let her play out of pity?” 

“What's going on?” Zabini asked, walking over with Ginny. 

“I've heard all the things people say about you, you know,” Derrick continued, “I know about the reputation of Slytherin house and how you got questioned for being a Dark Witch,” 

“That's none of your business,” Lydia said quickly, “Shut up,” 

“People say you're mad as well. Something about your mom?” 

Harry moved before Lydia could. He grabbed Derrick by his robes an shoved him against the walls of the changing rooms. Hermione screamed and Ron yelled for him to back off, but it was clear that he wasn't listening. Zabini looked torn between punching both of them or just letting it play out. 

“Do you want to say that again?” Harry hissed. 

“What? About your mad sister and the daydreams she has about your mum?” Derrick asked. Lydia thought that he was being quite brave. If she wouldn't mess with Harry if he was looking at her like that. 

Harry sighed and shook his head, “You're a bit of a twat, you know that?” 

“Do you not even let her fight he own fights anymore? Are you scared she'll do a bit of Dark Magic?” 

And then Harry punched him in the face. Hermione screamed again and Ron tried to pull Harry away but it was no use, because he just kicked him instead. Lydia could not bare it any longer and turned on her heel, hurrying away. Lydia walked for what felt like hours until she found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower. At first, she thought that she was alone but then she heard someone sniffle. Not wanting to intrude, she turned to leave but then she saw a figure silhouetted against the sunlight, leaning over the railings, their head bowed. Her eyes adjusted to the light and she realised that it was Draco.

Before she could leave, he noticed her. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and he looked utterly broken. Lydia paused, unsure of what to say but he saved her by breaking the silence. 

“The Quidditch match over?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” 

“Sorry I missed it,” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t,” 

He frowned at her, “did we lose?”

“No,” Lydia said, “we won. I was just...shit,” they fell into silence. She cleared her throat and then said, rather stupidly, “You’re crying,”

“I am,” He said.

“Why?”

He paused for a moment. 

“Because I’m annoyed at myself for being disappointed that my Father told me he wants to disown me,” he said bluntly, “I knew he wouldn’t take the issue of my sexuality well and yet I’m still sad about it,”

“I’m sorry,” 

He waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head.

“I knew it would happen. I just wish it didn’t,” he smiled at her, “you’re lucky to have the family you have,” 

“I told you you could come for Christmas,” Lydia said, “no one would have minded. Bill and Fleur already took you in once,”

“Mrs Weasley sent me a Christmas sweater,” he said quietly. 

Lydia grinned at him and laughed, “That means there’s no getting away from any of us,”

“Yeah...I actually don't think I have a family now,” he said it with a hint of confusion in his voice, “or a future. Or anything,”

“Course you do,” Lydia said bracingly, “We all do. That's what I died for, remember?” 

“Yeah, guess you did,” he paused and then smiled at her, “Well, I'll be off. You look like you need to sit here and feel sorry for yourself more than I do,” 

Lydia did not try and stop him from leaving. He was right, she really did need to sit alone and feel sorry for herself. And she knew that Draco would find Zabini or Daphne to talk to soon enough. Sighing, she dropped her broom on the floor and sank down to the floor, fiddling with the hem of her robes and thinking about how truly depressing her life was.

Ever since coming to Hogwarts, people seemed to be convinced that she was a Dark Witch and all she had ever wanted to do was shake that reputation, and yet it was still a thing of interest to people who clearly had nothing better to talk about. She pummelled her fist into the ground out of anger but it achieved nothing apart from hurting her hand. Maybe if she broke her hand, she could convince Madam Pomfrey to not fix it so she could get out of Quidditch for the rest of the year. If she was even going to last at Hogwarts for the rest of the year...maybe she should have just stayed home with George. Things probably would have been easier. On the bright side, George had not been there to see her make a fool out of herself because he had been working. On reflection, however, she realised that there probably wasn't a bright side because Lee Jordan will most likely have told him everything that happened.

By the time Lydia got back to the common room, it was almost one in the morning and she had thought it empty. That was until she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione sat by the fire, talking in hushed tones. Lydia tried to creep past them, but Hermione noticed her and called her over. Resigned to the fact that she was probably going to get a lecture off Hermione, Lydia stomped over to them and threw herself into the one vacant chair. 

“You need to change out of your Quidditch things!” Hermione said, “you must be freezing!” 

Lydia shrugged, “I'm fine,” 

“Yeah, you look great,” Ron said and she didn't even have the energy to glare at him.

“One bad game doesn't mean you're a bad Quidditch player, Lydia,” Harry said, gently. 

She looked over at him and realised that he had a black eye. 

“Derrick,” he muttered moodily, “McGonagall has given me detention for a week and Madam Pomfrey won't heal it to ‘make a point’ and neither will Hermione,” he added, glaring at Hermione. 

“You shouldn't have punched him!” Hermione said loftily, “You should have just ignored him. He wants to get a reaction out of you,” 

“You heard what he said!” Harry snapped. 

“You shouldn't have punched him, mate,” Ron said, “You should have knocked him out,” 

_ “Ron!”  _ Hermione said shocked, “anyway, what you should or shouldn't have done to Derrick isn't important right now!” She turned back to Lydia, “I’ve been thinking...maybe you should give therapy another try,” 

“That's the worst idea you've ever had,” 

“No, it isn't,” Hermione said firmly, “Ever since that nightmare, you've been different. You need to talk to someone who isn't us. Someone who can offer more advice than, “it's ok”,” 

“I speak to Fabio,” Lydia said, and it wasn't a lie. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Lydia, I'm being serious. Talk to Professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey about it,”

Lydia only said yes so they could stop talking about it. Eventually, Ron and Hermione went to bed leaving Harry and Lydia alone. They did not speak and Lydia just stared into the fire, wishing that Sirius or James would appear there and give her some advice. James would have known exactly what to say to her after that match and would probably have a ridiculous story about his worst Quidditch match. Then she remembered that he did once tell a story about a terrible Quidditch match to a very amused Lydia, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George.

_ “Right, so, I used to switch between playing as Chaser and Seeker. So I started this one match as Seeker, which is fine, but then I got hit in the head by a Bludger and became convinced that I was the Chaser. And let me tell you, the three actual Chasers were not amused,” he had said, “Anyway, then Sirius thought that if I got hit in the head with another Bludger, I'd go back to normal. So he hit a Bludger at my head and then I became convinced that I was the Keeper. Once again, the Keeper was not amused,”  _

_ “Did you win the match?” Fred asked.  _

_ “Oh, Merlin, no. We lost to Ravenclaw by about four hundred points,” James sighed, “Sirius kept on hitting Bludgers at me and I went through every Quidditch position with the exception of Seeker,” _

“You're not resigning from the team,” Harry said quietly. 

“What if I want to?” Lydia asked. 

“I'm not letting you,” he said, “You're a good player, you've just had a bad day. And, Tutshill Tornados are still interested in you,” 

Lydia pretended that that didn't put her in a ridiculously good mood. It was a good mood that did not last, though because when Monday morning rolled around and she sat in the Great Hall, people muttered to their friends behind their hands and shot her strange looks. If people wanted to talk about her, then that was fine, but she would prefer it if they wouldn't make it so bloody obvious. Ginny had taken it upon herself to threaten people with the Bat-Bogey Hex if they said anything about her and Harry said that he wasn't opposed to punching anyone else. Lydia just wished that they wouldn't make such a big deal out of it because it was only drawing more unwanted attention to her. 

Somehow, her day went from bad to worse. She managed to forget her Transfiguration homework in her dormitory, nearly got murdered by a plant in Herbology and then had no idea what was going on in Ancient Runes because she'd forgotten to read the next chapter of the book they were reading. Hermione did her best to keep her up to date with what Professor Florence was saying, but it was no use and Lydia just resigned herself to the fact that her days of being good at Ancient Runes were long gone. When the bell rang at the end of the day, Lydia thought that might have started crying of happiness and had never left a classroom so quick in her life. 

“Hey, Lydia, why don't we go for a walk outside?” Hermione said, “we’ll get food from the kitchens later. So we don't have to go to the Great Hall,” 

“Good idea,” Lydia said, turning her back on the Great Hall and gratefully walking out into the fresh air. 

They walked for a while, discussing everything and nothing. Lydia noticed that Hermione seemed to be avoiding the subject of Quidditch and she was thankful for it. When they got near the Quidditch stadium, they turned away from it and started walking back towards Hagrid's cabin. Maybe they could have tea with him, instead. He definitely didn't think that she was a Dark Witch. She smiled inwardly and turned to face the Forbidden Forest. 

It hit her all at once. 

The flash of the Killing Curse consumed her very being and she felt it hit her chest again as Voldemort’s high, cruel laugh filled the air. Lydia screamed and fell to the ground, convinced that he had come for her again and sure that this time, she wouldn't get out of it.

“Lydia!” Hermione exclaimed, falling to her knees next to her, “L-Lydia! It's OK, we’re OK! You're OK!” 

“No, it's not, Hermione! It's not OK because it's never fucking OK for me, is it? Something always has to go wrong! I never get a break from anything!” Lydia yelled before she could stop herself. 

“Lydia, no one expects you to be-”

“I think they do, Hermione! I think they do! My entire life - my entire fucking life people just expect me to bounce back bad day, after bad day, after bad day!” She yelled, “My mum and dad die when I'm a year old, and I'm expected to deal with it! I have to live with the Dursleys, and I'm expected to be OK with that! I get sorted into Slytherin, and I have to deal with that! And not once did someone sit me or Harry down and say “it's OK that you're scared! It's OK that you're not OK!” We just had to suck it up and get on with it!” 

“Lydia!” Hermione exclaimed, “D-don't! Let's just go to the common room and talk!” 

“No, Hermione! No! I can't just go and talk because it doesn't change anything! It doesn't change the fact that when I was twelve I was nearly killed by a fucking Basilisk! It doesn't change the fact that I had to watch Lord Voldemort come back from the dead! It doesn't change what Umbridge put me through, it doesn't change Sirius dying, or my dad dying, or any fucking thing that happened last year!" Lydia yelled, "Everyone looks at me and Harry for hope! They look at us and want to see us as happy and dealing with everything that happens because if we can, then so can they! But I can't do it anymore, Hermione. I can't. I'm done. I'm fucking done with it all!"    
  
Hermione tried to take her hands but Lydia shoved her away, "Lydia, please! Please! You n-need to calm down and-"   
  
"I'M FED UP OF CALMING DOWN! I'M FED UP OF IT ALL!"    
  
"Lydia! Lydia! You're just reacting to everything for the first time! I know it's scary and you haven't-"   
  
"My entire life has been bloody scary, Hermione! Do you know what it's like to have to walk to your death? Do you know what it's like to have to stand before the man who you've been running from your entire life and just let him kill you?" Lydia screamed, tears streaming down her face, "A-and then afterwards, you think you're going to have a break. You think that maybe just maybe everyone will leave you alone but they don't! They don't leave you alone and you end up on trial being accused of being a Dark Witch! And then you come to school and it still doesn't stop!"    


"Sometimes," Lydia said, her voice suddenly calm, “Sometimes, I wish that he'd have just done it,"    
  
"Lydia, you don't mean that," Hermione sobbed, "Y-you don't mean that!"    
  
"No, Hermione, I do," Lydia said, her voice calm, "sometimes I wish that I never came out of that damn Forest. I wish he'd have just killed me properly," heart beating out of control, Lydia pushed herself off the ground and backed away from Hermione, “I-I just need to be alone,” 

She practically ran to the Astronomy Tower, shoving people out of the way with no regard to who they are. Some people tried to call her back, but she didn't pay them any attention. All she wanted to be was alone. Finally, she made it to the tower and slammed the door shut behind her. The room seemed to be spinning and she couldn't quite keep her balance. It was only when she heard the door open and shut behind her that everything came back into balance. 

“Lyds,” it was Harry, “Are you OK?” 

“How'd you find me?” 

He held up the Marauders Map, “I may or may not have stolen it out of your bag. As our dear Aunt and Uncle always said, sometimes it's better to not ask questions,”

Lydia slowly sank to the floor and Harry joined her, putting his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder and tried to put her thoughts into some sort of cohesive order. Everything had happened so quickly and now she had no idea where she stood. 

“I don't know if I can do this anymore,” Lydia said. 

“Do what?” Harry asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

“School. Hogwarts,” she said, “I shouldn't have come back. It's quite possibly the worst place for me to be. I mean...I  _ died  _ here, Harry. Why on earth would anyone want to come back to the place that they were killed?”

“What happened, Lydia? When you went into the Forest?”

If anyone deserved to know what happened, Lydia thought, it was Harry.                        

“After-after he killed me, I woke up in this really, really bright place. And at first I thought that I was in heaven, you know? But then that didn't make any sense to me so I looked around a bit more, and then I realised that I was in Kings Cross,” she said slowly, “but it wasn't. And then...good lord, then Dumbledore was there,” 

“Dumbledore?”

“Dumbledore,” Lydia said, nodding, “and then we talked about everything. We talked about the Horcrux and Snape and whether or not I was evil,”

“What did he say?”

“I asked if the Horcrux inside of me ever made me do horrible things like it did with Ron. But he said that even though it tried, it couldn't break down the barrier that I'd put up but when in times of crisis, it could push me in one direction,” 

“Like with that Death Eater...”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “And then I asked if I had to go back,”

“What did he say? Something vague?”

“No, actually...he said that if I go back, fewer people would be hurt and less families would be torn apart,” Lydia replied, “And when I asked what would happen if I stayed...” tears suddenly began to cascade down her cheeks.

“Mum?” Harry whispered. 

“And dad, and Sirius and Remus,” 

“What did she say?”

Lydia sniffles and wiped her eyes, “She told me that I'd been brave and that I had to go back because I had an entire life to live. She said that George was waiting for me and...and...” She giggled, “she said that you needed me because Potter men can't do anything on their own,”

Harry laughed, “she's got a point,”

“She could have come back, you know? Like how dad came back after Cedric...but she gave up a second chance at life for me,” Lydia whispered, “she...she sacrificed herself for me again,” 

Harry looked down at her, “And you want to make that sacrifice worthless? Hermione told me what you said about wishing he'd killed you,” when she didn't say anything, Harry sighed, “You dying solved something once, it's not going to solve anything again. Do you think Hermione would be able to deal with you dying? Or Ron? Or George? Or m-me?” 

“I know,” Lydia whispered, “I know, I know! But I feel  _ so  _ guilty!” 

“I do, too,” Harry said quietly and then he said, “What was she like? Mum?”

Lydia smiled, “she was so beautiful. And she does that thing you do,”

“What thing?” 

“When you're stood talking to someone, you always stand with one foot crossed over the others,” she said, “it's weird,”

“I...I...never noticed,” Harry said, frowning.

“But I noticed that you're wearing a Slytherin tie,”

He groaned and put his head in his hands, “I was hoping you wouldn't notice,”

“I'm happy for you, H, whoever they are,” she said, though she had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly who it was, “though ties do seem to be your downfall,” 

“I know,” he said. He looked over at her, “Just promise me something,”

“What?” 

“The next time you feel like the entire world is falling apart, tell me. I'm your brother, Lydia, I'm never going to let you go through any shit on your own,”

She nodded, “I will, I promise,” 

“You deserve to be happy, Lydia. We all do,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Sorry this took longer than usual to go up but life caught up with me. On the bright side, my schedules have all lined up so perfectly that from tomorrow onwards, I’m off for like ten days which means I have a lot of time to write!!! 
> 
> Thank-you for all the lovely comments and kudos as usual!
> 
> -E.


	46. The Forest, again

Lydia did not feel like speaking to anyone. No one apart from Harry, Ron and Hermione were aware of Lydia's small breakdown. They did not speak about it and Lydia was thankful for that. Harry was true to his word and was refusing to let her resign from the Quidditch team. The first practice after the Ilvermorny match was not nearly as bad as Lydia thought it was going to be and, as Ginny pointed out to her, she was back to playing at her usual standard. There were even scouts there from more professional teams, and they were quite complimentary when talking to her afterwards.

And yet, despite the fact that Lydia was having an actual good week, she still couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't be back at Hogwarts. Whenever she walked to the Herbology greenhouses or went to visit Hagrid, her eyes were drawn to the Forest. Harry, Ron and Hermione always tried to distract her when they noticed she was staring at it too much. Ron was usually the best at distracting her.

“Hey, Lyds, remember when Draco was transfigured in a ferret?” He said to her as they walked towards the greenhouses and she was too busy thinking about Draco the Ferret to worry about the Forbidden Forest.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get her through the long days. The only thing that Lydia could do was try to carry on as normal, but it was a hard thing to do when your normal was something terrible. The worst thing though, Lydia thought, was that she knew that Harry, Ron and Hermione were probably struggling just as much as she was but she didn't feel like she was in any position to give anyone advice about anything.

Her schoolwork was suffering as well. Due to the constant nightmares, she really struggled to concentrate in class. Her mind was constantly plagued with the memories of the nightmares that she had the night before. Sometimes she dreamt about Cedric, Sirius and James. Other nights she dreamt about being back in the Battle of Hogwarts, and then there was a massive explosion and Fred was gone. Sometimes, she dreamt about being back in the courtroom and everyone she loved turning against her. More recently, however, a new nightmare had come into the mix.

It always started the same way; she would be running out of the Entrance Hall and, turning her back on the Forest, she would try and get to the Quidditch pitch, but she would never be able to get away. Live shadows would snake out of the dark trees, writhing along the ground towards her. No matter how fast she ran, they would also catch up to her. First, they would wrap themselves around her ankles and curl up her legs and work towards her arms, pulling her backwards into the Forest. They would drop her in the clearing where Lord Voldemort was waiting for her, his red eyes alight with contempt and his wand raised.

And the worst thing about it, was that in every dream, Lydia was completely helpless. She could do nothing but watch Cedric be killed by Wormtail. She had to watch as Sirius fell backwards through the veil and a jet of green light hit James. And each time, she could do nothing despite wanting nothing more than to save them. Lydia could do nothing and it killed her a little bit more every time.

To try and make her feel better about how much her life was falling apart, Lydia pulled herself out of bed at dawn on Sunday morning and dragged herself up to the Owlery to send a letter to George. Pulling her scarf tighter around her neck, she settled herself on one of the window ledges and pulled out her parchment and quill, trying to think of the best way to word her letter without making it seem like too much of a big deal.

“ _Dear George,_

_I'm guessing Lee told you about the disaster of the last Quidditch game against Beauxbatons. I'm really glad you weren't there. It was possibly the worst game of Quidditch that I've ever played. In fact, I know it was the worst game I've ever played. The slight breakdown I had a few days after because I saw the Forbidden Forest didn't help either but I'm doing a lot better than I was._

_Practice is going okay again and I'm not dreading the match as much anymore. Harry won't let me resign though. I feel like that's only because I'm his sister though. If we weren't related, he definitely would have kicked me off the team by now. It's not even as though he wouldn't be able to replace me. There's so many people who'd happily take my place._

_Anyway, you need to come up soon, I miss you._

_Love, Lydia,_ ”

She read the letter over and over again, making sure that it was OK. It didn't look as though she had made a big deal about the forest. Hopefully, he would overlook what she had written about the forest and would be more interested in going to Hogsmeade at some point.

Coaxing one of the school owls awake took so long that by the time the letter was actually tied to its leg and it had taken flight, it was almost time for breakfast. Stretching, she left the owlery and walked back down into the grounds and saw that the curtains in Hagrid’s hut were open. Feeling like it wasn’t too early to pay him a visit, she turned away from the castle and knocked on the door. A slightly bleary eyed Hagrid greeted her, but he looked happy to see her.

“Lovely to see yer, Lydia! Bit early though, aren't yeh?”

“Sorry, Hagrid,” she said, “I woke up early and didn't have anything else to do. You don't mind, do you?”

“‘Course not!” He said, chuckling, “come in, come in. I'll put some bacon on. D’you want some tea?”

“Yeah, cheers, Hagrid,” Lydia said, sitting down at the table and taking Fabio out of her pocket and trying to stop Fang from frightening him, “You couldn't get something for Fabio, could you?”

“How’re you doing, Lydia?” Hagrid asked, setting some bacon and sausage down in front of her, “Harry mentioned something about the Forest the other day...”

Lydia didn't reply straight away and instead took a very long time in cutting up a piece of bacon for Fabio. It was only when she handed it to Fabio that she turned back to Hagrid.

“I don't know if coming back to Hogwarts was the right thing for me to do,” she said, “If it weren't for Quidditch...” She trailed off and took a big gulp of tea to cover the silence.

“You know, Lydia, yeh’ve gotta do whatever it is that makes yeh happy,” Hagrid said, thoughtfully, “there's more ter life than Hogwarts, you know,”

“You're still here,” Lydia pointed out.

Hagrid smiled at her, “There's more ter life than Hogwarts fer you lot,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “You, Harry, Ron, Hermione...leavin’ school wouldn't be the end of you, Lydia,”

She rested her head on her hands and sighed. She knew that Hagrid was probably right, but she didn't know what sort of life that she had outside of Hogwarts. It was easy for Hagrid. He had been given a job almost straight away. Lydia really didn't know what she wanted to do once she left school. George had always said there would be a job at the shop if she ever needed it, but she would probably be useless working there.

“What about Quidditch?” Hagrid asked, smiling at her, “Yer a damn good player and I heard about those scouts!”

“I don't want to be in the public eye for the rest of my life,” Lydia said, “it's the one thing that's putting me off it. Sometimes I feel like going into the Muggle world and never coming back,”

“Ah, Lydia, don’ talk rubbish, yer not made for the Muggle world. Yeh belong in this world and yeh know it,”

She groaned and put her head in her hands, “These scars have brought me enough attention as it is. How's professional Quidditch gonna help that?”

“People are always gonna talk about yeh, Lydia, best give ‘em something to talk about other than that scar on yer head,” Hagrid said wisely, “give it three years and you'll be the best Chaser in the league...or yeh could just work a boring ministry job fer the rest of yer life,”

Lydia laughed, “The Ministry is for people like Hermione,”

“She’ll be the first Muggle Born Minister for Magic,”

“She’ll be the first Minister for Magic that I don't want to punch,” Lydia corrected, “Actually, Kingsley isn't too bad,”

“Yeh know what you’re problem is, Lydia?”

“I have many, actually,”

“Yeh worry too much about what other people think,” Hagrid said, “yeah just gotta do what's best fer yerself,”

“I don't know what that is,”

“‘Course yeh do, deep down, yeh’ve already made yer mind up about whether or not yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts or not,”

“Yeah,” Lydia said quietly, “I just...I just wish I could speak to my dad,”

Hagrid put his massive hand on hers and sighed, “He'd be so proud of yeh...and Harry...yer mum would be as well. Yeh’ve done ‘em proud, Lydia...yeh’ve gone through hell, and yet yer both still here,”

“Just about,” Lydia muttered.

“Jus’ about is enough,”

There was a knock on the door and Hagrid opened it, revealing Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry was trying, and failing, to hide the Marauders Map behind his back whilst trying to look as casual as possible. Ron rolled his eyes at the back of Harry’s head and snatched the map out of his hands, hitting him on the head with it.

“She saw,” he muttered, “git,” he added, as an afterthought.

“Come in, come in!” Hagrid said jovially, “Breakfast, anyone?”

“We’re fine, thank-you, Hagrid, we were looking for Lydia after breakfast,” Hermione said, stroking Fabio as she sat down next to Harry, “is everything OK?”

“Fine, fine,” Hagrid said, “Just talkin’ about Quidditch,”

“You know what, Hagrid, I'll have some breakfast,” Ron said, eyeing Lydia's plate.

“You've just eaten,” Harry said.

“Half an hour ago,” Ron said, “that's ages ago,”

They ended up staying at Hagrid's for lunch as well, which was always interesting thanks to his cooking. It was only when it was time for Quidditch practice that they finally left. Hermione muttered something about going to the library and waved good-bye to them. Lydia felt better than she had done in a long time and didn't even flinch when she caught a glimpse of the forest as she left Hagrid's hut.

Being with Hagrid had given her a lot to think about, though. She knew that living in the Muggle world would be pointless. As endearing as it may seem now, she knew that down the line, she would come to regret leaving the Wizarding World and all its wonders. And if there was one thing in her life that she was completely sure of, it was that she wasn't made for working at the Ministry. She wasn't even sure that there was any department that would take her.

When Harry blew the whistle, and she rose into the air, Lydia couldn't think of a better way to spend her days than in the air. If she could somehow make it to professional Quidditch, maybe her name would be associated with winning the league rather than Lord Voldemort and Dark Magic. But she was terrified of focusing too much on one thing and then getting disappointed when she didn't achieve anything that she wanted to.

Harry blew his whistle hours later, and they landed on the ground, gathering together. One look at him told Lydia that he was about to go off on one and she was already starting to consider going to sleep whilst being stood up.

“Right,” Harry said, “these next games are the knockouts. These are the ones that really, really matter. We need to win these,”

“We understand the concept of knockouts, Harry,” Billy muttered.

Harry ignored him, “The first game is against Durmstrang. They're a tough, tough team. Their Beaters are ruthless. I still have a massive bruise on my leg from when that first game against them. But that's not the point. We just need to try harder and make sure that they don't get their hands on the Quaffle for too long. And,” he turned to Billy and Edward, “Don't get caught up on trying to hit the Seeker, I can deal with him. The Beaters are the ones we really need to worry about. The Chasers have nothing on these three,” he said, pointing at Lydia, Ginny and Zabini.

“So the tactic of this game is to just win?” Lydia asked.

He frowned at her, “When you put it like that, you ruin the whole speech thing I had going. I just complimented you!”

If Lydia had known how badly Monday was going to turn out for her, she probably wouldn't have gotten out of bed. When she got to the Great Hall, a third year accidentally spilled pumpkin all over her, and Fabio cowered in the corner of the room out of fear and by the time Lydia had coaxed him out with the food, she did not have time to eat for she had an extra Arithmancy class. A class she did not particularly enjoy and would not lose sleep over if she ended up failing it. Though, she reflected as she pulled her books out of her bag, she wasn't sure she would lose sleep over failing any of her classes anymore.

After a terribly confusing Arithmancy lesson that Lydia left feeling like she knew less than she had done before she went in, she dragged herself to Transfiguration, which ended up being the only successful class of the day. Herbology had been going well at first, until the Venomous Tentacula behind her became very interested in her hair and Draco had to save her. By the time she sat down in Charms before lunch, Lydia was ready to start murdering people. Professor Flitwick must have sensed this, because he left her alone for the lesson and didn't even get angry when she sat with her head on the desk.

Her breaking point came halfway through Defence Against the Dark Arts. Usually, they would not have a Defence lesson until later in the week, but due to the fact that their NEWTs were looming ever closer, Scrimgeour had somehow managed to convince McGonagall to let her put an extra (compulsory) class on. It was the last place on earth that Lydia wanted to be and did not try and hide her anger at having to be there when she sat down. The fact that Professor McGonagall had set them a lot of homework was not helping her mood, either.

Scrimgeour walked into the classroom and Lydia realised that she could not do this anymore. Hagrid was right, deep down, she knew whether or not she wanted to be at Hogwarts, and she definitely knew that she didn't want to be there.

“I'm off,” Lydia muttered to Daphne.

“You're what?”

“Going,” Lydia said, shoving everything back into her bag and making sure that Fabio was safely stowed in her pocket.

“Miss Potter, where on earth do you think you're going?” Scrimgeour snapped, “this class is compulsory no you know that,”

“It's a free country, Professor,” she said brightly. She grinned at the astonished look on Harry, Ron and Hermione's faces and then walked out of the room.

It took her a while, but Lydia eventually found Professor McGonagall sat in the Transfiguration classroom grading papers. When the door banged open and she walked in, McGonagall looked up from the parchment and raised her eyebrows slightly.

“What is it, Miss Potter?”

“I’m dropping out of school,”

McGonagall did not speak straight away. She just looked at Lydia over the top of her glasses. Lydia shifted uncomfortably on the spot, feeling as though McGonagall could somehow she straight through her.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” McGonagall said finally, “I’m more than impressed that you made it this far,”

“So, like...is there something I need to sign? Or can I just go?” Lydia asked, not wanting to stick around for much longer.

“You can leave tomorrow morning,” McGonagall said, “goodness knows you should say goodbye to your brother. I shall let Mr Weasley know what is happening. I’m sure that he’d me more than happy to come and get you,”

“Thank-you, Professor,”

The next morning came around slowly. Lydia did not sleep much the night before and instead dedicated her time to packing her trunk. No one had seemed very surprised at Lydia’s announcement that she was leaving and that only proved to her that she was definitely doing the right thing. Hermione had been quite tearful about the whole thing and made her promise to always write to her. Ron said that she could write to him, but he would most definitely forget to reply.

“You’re definitely writing to me,” Harry said to her, “after putting the Quidditch team in jeopardy, it’s the least you can do,”

“I’ll come and see you all,” she promised, “We can go to Hogsmeade soon,”

“I can't believe you're leaving me with these two,” muttered Hermione, hugging her.

“Ones your boyfriend, ones your best friend, I'm sure you’ll be fine,” Lydia said.

After the bell rang, Lydia dragged her trunk all the way down to the deserted Entrance Hall. Professor McGonagall and George were waiting for her and she couldn't help but grin as she walked over to them.

“Ready?” George asked.

“Yes,” Lydia said, dropping her trunk on the floor.

“Well, Miss Potter, it's been lovely to see you again,” Professor McGonagall said, turning to her again.

“Thank-you, Professor,”

McGonagall nodded at them both and walked away. George picked up her trunk and lead the way outside. Lydia waved at Hagrid who was stood outside his hut, and he waved back whilst Fang barked at them.

“Charlie moved back to Romania yesterday,” George said, but Lydia was barely listening, instead she started walking towards the Forest, but George reached out and grabbed her arm, “Woah, woah, woah...is that...is that a good idea?”

“No, obviously not,” Lydia said.

“Lyds, your letter. I did read it,”

“George, please,” she said, “I want to go in. I need to go in,”

He paused but then let go of her arm and took her hand, squeezing it slightly. As they walked further into the grounds, Lydia realised that George had no idea that she had been there he was sat on the steps after the battle.

“I saw you that night,” Lydia said slowly, “before I went,”

“I probably made it harder for you, didn't I?” he said, not looking at her.

“No, it made me realise that dying was worth it. That it was the right thing to do,” she said confidently, “even...even though it didn't actually matter in the end because I didn't die...come on,”

Lydia did not know how she knew the way in the Forest, but she did. It was not silent like it was on the night of the Battle, but alive. She could hear creatures rustling in the bushes and the distant sound of Centaur hooves thundering in the distance, but she was not worried. For some reason, she knew that nothing would hurt her. George did not seem as at ease as she was and jumped at every noise, his wand in hand.

Finally, they came to the clearing. Lydia's breath caught in her throat and she stumbled slightly. George grabbed her and held her up, muttering something about how they should probably get going. Lydia shook her head, determined to see this through. She had gotten this far, after all.

She let go of his hands and walked forwards in the same way she did when Voldemort was stood before her; back straight and wand stuck in her bun. She stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where he had been. Lydia remembered the look on his face and how he had cocked his head to the side slightly, taking her in. Lydia had held her head high and waited for it to come. Waited to feel the rush of death.

Lydia tore her eyes from where Voldemort had been had took in the clearing, something she had not done the last time she had been there. The trees around her were dead and decaying, and the ground where she had stood was scorched as though by fire. Voldemort had put every ounce of power he had into killing her, and yet it had still not been enough. She looked closer at the ground and gasped softly. Colourful shoots had burst from the ground, covering the ground where it had happened; signs of new life.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember what she had been like before the Battle of Hogwarts. That Lydia seemed like a completely different person, one who no longer existed. She was not sure that she would recognise her old self.

“He was stood there,” Lydia said, speaking out into the silence and pointing ahead of her. George came up behind her and put his arm around her, “and Hagrid was tied to that tree behind him and there were loads of Death Eaters,” she turned around, “and when I woke up, I was there...and Narcissa was sent to check if I was alive. And when she lied and said I was dead...he used the Cruciatus Curse on me,”

“And you had to pretend that you didn't feel it?”

“No, because I didn't. I didn't feel anything,” Lydia said, frowning, “he couldn't have hurt me if he tried,”

“What's that?” George pointed at something on the ground behind them.

Lydia turned around and looked closer, her heart skipped a beat and she hurriedly bent down, picking up the small black stone that was protruding from the ground. The Resurrection Stone. She remembered how the sight of Hagrid tied up had sent a rush of anger through her body and she had dropped it the floor.

“It's the Resurrection Stone,” she said slowly, “It was in the Snitch that Dumbledore left Harry. It was meant for him after...after I'd gone,” she swallowed, “but he didn't want it, so he gave it to me,”

“Did you use it?” George asked.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking. He held her tighter as she fought to regulate her breathing, “I saw my parents, Sirius and Remus...” She could not say anymore and George did not push her to do so, “and then I dropped it. I just assumed that it would be gone forever,” she looked up at George. There were tears in his eyes.

“Take it,” she said, handing it to him, “You could see him again. You just have to turn it over three times,”

George took it and regarded it for a moment. He began to turn it over in his hand but abruptly stopped and shook his head, taking Lydia by surprise.

“No,” he said, surprising her further, “It sends people mad. I know how the Tale of the Three Brothers ends. Deaths taken enough off us,”

“What do we do it with then?”

George looked at it again for a moment and then, as though throwing a cricket ball, chucked it into the trees. And it was gone.

“Home?” George said.

“Yeah,” Lydia agreed, “home,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> The fact that people are still reading this and not bored after forty something chapters is amazing to me! 
> 
> Also, I have no idea what's happened to my updating schedule because it's kind of gone off the walls a bit but you'll have to bare with me. 
> 
> -E.


	47. April 1st, 1999

The first day of April in 1999 was not a day that Lydia was looking forward to. In fact, she couldn’t understand how anyone in the world could be looking forward to that day. George certainly wasn’t looking forward to it and was going out of his way to pretend that the day didn’t even exist. Ron had actually written to her and asked her and George to go to Hogsmeade on April 1st. Lydia had written back and said that they would, but she was terrified that George would not be able to handle it. She kept on having flashbacks to after Remus and Tonks’ funeral and the morning of Fred's funeral and how badly he had reacted to it all.

They were a week away from the dreaded day and Lydia was determined to keep George in much of a good mood as possible. Not that he was even in a bad mood, every day he woke up very happy and easily made jokes as though nothing had happened. And Lydia couldn't help but be equally as happy. She and George had been living together for almost three weeks and she was sure that it was the best decision that she had ever made.

Admittedly, she had been quite nervous about going to the flat for the first time. George had never been the tidiest of people at The Burrow and she didn't think that he would have transformed into a completely different person since moving out. When she had first walked through the door, she was pleasantly surprised at the state that the flat was in, though she didn't miss him sneakily casting Evanesco and Scourgify behind his back.

It wasn't all great though, and it was pointless to even try and pretend that it was. Both Lydia and George had nightmares almost every night and Lydia could never quite get the idea that her life was going nowhere out of her head. Whilst she loved living with George, she wondered how many places would take on someone who had no NEWTs. The dream that she might one day play professional Quidditch had quickly fizzled away, leaving her wondering what else she was good at.

She wasn't even sure that being an Auror was definitely out of the question anymore. Lydia wasn't sure that she knew how to do anything but be a soldier. With nothing else to do in the day, Lydia would sit on the living room floor and go through all the departments in the Ministry of Magic, ticking off the ones that maybe she wouldn't mind working in; Department of Magical Education seemed nice enough, but she would much rather be teaching students. She had had enough experience with the Department of Mysteries to know that she would rather work for Dolores Umbridge than ever step foot in there again and she had had too many bad run ins with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to ever want to go near it again.

Lydia had planned on starting working with George as soon possible, but it soon transpired that it was too much too soon. She was in desperate need of a break that would allow her to sort her head out, though there was no saying how long that would actually take; there were days when she was sure that she wanted to be an Auror, but then days when the very idea repulsed her and sent her into a suffocating spiral of panic attacks. Then there were days when the only thing she could imagine herself doing was being a Quidditch player but then days when she thought back to her third year Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons and wondered if she could emulate that for other students. Dumbledore's Army had always gone well, and she wouldn't mind teaching legally.

When Lydia could no longer think about the fact that her life was going nowhere, she went on very long walks that somehow made her feel worse. The best thing about living in Diagon Alley was that there was always something to be distracted by. Sometimes it was ice cream, sometimes it was cute owls in the windows of Magical Menagerie. There had been one day when she had almost bought a Crup but then figured that it was a thing that she should discuss with George first. And, of course, she was worried that Fabio would not react to it well. Whenever she passed the Magical Menagerie and he was sat on her shoulder, he would squeak angrily and try to hide in her hair.

It was only since leaving Hogwarts that Lydia had come to fully appreciate the two-way mirror. She had not expected to miss him and Ron and Hermione as much as she did. It was nice to be able to speak to them, though she did sometimes get funny looks if she was walking through Diagon Alley and speaking into a mirror. She had no idea where her father had gotten the mirror from, because no matter how many shops she went in, she never came across another pair. Lydia would not have been surprised if it was like the Marauders Map and something that they had invented.

It was also nice to be able to keep up with everything that was happening at school without actually having to be there. Harry had managed to replace Lydia on the Quidditch team with a sixth year Hufflepuff called Lucy Dravis. According to Ron, Dravis wasn't nearly as good as Lydia, but she wasn't a complete disaster. Hermione told him to stop being mean and told her that Matthew Derick was still as awful as ever and that she had to keep on stopping Harry and Ron from trying to punch him. Though she did admit to cursing him one day after a particularly stressful study session in the library.

“He never worked out that it was me though, so I'm sure I'll be fine,” she said flippantly.

Neville liked to keep Lydia up to date on all the plants in the Herbology Greenhouses, though she was quite sure that that was more down to the fact that everyone else was quite bored of hearing him talking about plants. Lydia would never tell him this, but she would often zone out when he started talking about how his Leaping Toadstools were leaping higher than ever and how the Moly that were growing at his Grans house were doing better than he could have ever hoped for.

“What the hell is a Moly?” Lydia asked.

“It's a really powerful plant!” Neville said eagerly, clearly thrilled that someone other than Professor Sprout was willing to listen to him, “If you eat it, it could counteract Dark Enchantments! Some Aurors always carry a bunch of them with them, just in case!”

Something that Lydia was interested in, so she was sure that she probably shouldn't be, was Adeline Scrimgeour. Even though it had been weeks since Lydia had seen her, she was still playing on her mind. She was particularly interested in why she seemed to have it out for her, but could only come up with the reason that Kingsley had given her all those months ago about Scrimgeour blaming her for her Uncles death. But it still didn't make any sense to her. Whenever Lydia brought it up to Harry, Ron or Hermione, they advised her to just let the whole thing go because there were bigger things to worry about.

“She has been in a much better mood since you left, though,” Hermione said, “she does pick on Draco a lot though,”

“Yeah,” Ron said frowning, “Though, he doesn't seem to mind. He's been in a weirdly good mood lately,”

Lydia's eyes automatically went to Harry, who had gone slightly red and quickly dropped out of frame of the mirror. Neither Ron or Hermione seemed to have caught onto Harry or his strange behaviour and Lydia hastily changed the subject.

“How's Luna? I haven't heard from her in a while,”

“Oh, she's fine,” Hermione said, “Still talking about that bloody Snorcack though...”

The morning before George’s birthday, Lydia awoke to sunlight. As Spring crept on, they were experiencing milder days and it would have put her in a good mood if not for the fact that the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts was getting uncomfortably close as well. Putting all thoughts of the Battle out of her mind, Lydia stretched and turned to look at George, but his side of the bed was empty. She experienced a spasm of panic before remembering that it was Tuesday and that meant he would be on the shop floor.

Resigned to the fact that if she stayed cooped up in the flat all day, she would just start to spiral again, Lydia quickly got dressed and walked down to the shop. With it being so early in the morning, it was not as packed as it usually got, but there were a few people milling about. George was stood at the cash register, yawning into his hands.

“Good morning,” Lydia said, kissing him on the cheek.

“Is it?” He said, “I had a very angry mum shouting about how Skiving Snackboxes were the reason her little Melody is no longer top of her class at Hogwarts and why she didn't get chosen as Ravenclaw prefect,”

“What a lovely woman,” Lydia said, “Did you point out that you weren't picked as prefect and turned out alright?”

“I did,” he replied, “I also pointed out that my Fiancée was picked as prefect and dropped out of school, so none of it really matters,”

“What did she say to that?”

He made a face, “Probably best not to repeat it. It's amazing how creative people can get with their insults. And also how personal they can get. I mean, was there any reason to bring my ear into it?”

Lydia sniggered, “I'm going to get some breakfast, do you want anything,”

“No,” he sighed, “actually, I want a nap. Can you get me a nap?”

“I can look after the shop for a while,” Lydia said.

He turned to look at her, “Are you sure?”

“Sure,” Lydia shrugged, “I heard you and Fr-” she quickly stopped herself, “I heard you constantly go about all this when we were at Hogwarts. I know everything,”

“Remember when you gave Harry a Feinting Fancy instead of something to stop a nosebleed?”

“You're the one who hit a Bludger at him!” Lydia pointed out, “but that was ages ago. I know exactly what's going on, now,” she took the name tag off the front of his robes and attached it to her t-shirt, “see, I'm now George Weasley and George Weasley knows everything - don't take that literally,” she added.

“I'm definitely taking that literally,” he said, “I'll be back in a hour,”

In the hour that Lydia looked after the shop, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Sure, she might have accidentally spilt a portable swamp everywhere and scared the living daylights out of an old couple who had definitely wandered in by mistake, but she did manage to clear it all up before any lasting damage was done. Accidentally setting a load of Fanged Frisbees off wasn't Lydia's finest moment, either but it did amuse a young child who came in with his father and she was quite sure that the point of owning a joke shop was to make people laugh.

When George came back an hour later, Lydia had never been so happy to see him. She was in the middle of trying to convince a man that buying his nephew a box of fireworks for his fourteenth birthday would not turn him into a delinquent.

“But if he sets them off in his common room-”

“What house is he in?” Lydia asked.

“Gryffindor,”

“I can guarantee that the Gryffindor common room has seen worse things than fireworks,” Lydia said, “Now, if he was in Slytherin it would be an issue because there's a massive window into the Black Lake and that did smash when I was in there once,”

“How?”

“Someone fell into it,” Lydia said, “but, there are no big windows into the Black Lake in the Gryffindor common room, so your nephew will be fine,”

The man did not look convinced but took the box of fireworks that Lydia was trying to shove into his hands, anyway. When he was gone, she let out a sigh of relief and collapsed against the shelf of fireworks.

“Can I smell portable swamp?” George asked, frowning as he walked over to her.

“Portable swamp?” Lydia said, “No idea what you're talking about,” she took off the name tag and pinned it back on George’s robes, “I have decided that being George Weasley is too stressful,”

“I really can smell a portable swamp,”

“No you can't, love,” she said, “Anyway, I’m off. Oh, also, we’re going out tomorrow and we’re not going to cancel,”

“I wasn't going to-”

“Yes you were, you had the look on your face,” she said, “there's an angry customer behind you so I am going to quickly evacuate,”

He glanced behind him and paled, “it's the same woman from before!”

By the time George got home that evening, he'd retreated back into his shell and Lydia knew that it was because of his birthday. Twice, she caught him staring at the closed doors of Fred’s bedroom and she had the feeling that the door had not been opened since Fred had closed it last. The worst thing was that Lydia had no idea what to say to make him feel better. There really was nothing that could make him feel better.

The next morning was an awkward one. Lydia had managed to convince George to take the day off work but by the time midday rolled around, she thought that maybe he'd be better off in work. He was moody, distant and just sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly ahead of him. Lydia tried to keep herself busy, but there really wasn't much to do. She thought back to his previous birthdays and how they were usually more exciting. Though, of course, that had been when Fred was alive and things weren't nearly as bad as they were now.

By the time they were ready to leave for Hogsmeade, Lydia was hoping that George would actually end up cancelling, but he did not. She knew that it would probably be better for him to not be cooped up in the flat, but she didn't want Ron to see him in the terrible state that he was in.

When they got to the Three Broomsticks, Harry, Ron and Hermione were already there waiting for them. The three of them seemed to have realised that George was not in the mood for any festivities, and there were no awkward exchanges of ‘Happy Birthday!’. That alone seemed to have put George in a better mood and Lydia thought that perhaps the evening wouldn't be such a disaster.

The more they spoke about everything but the fact that it was George's birthday, Lydia began to relax more and more. Harry and Ron wasted no time in telling the how Quidditch was going; Beauxbatons had been knocked out by Castelobruxo and Mahoutokoro had been knocked out by Durmstrang. Hogwarts would be playing Koldovstoretz that Saturday, the semi final and a match that everyone was panicking about.

“Ilvermorny not been knocked out?” Lydia asked hopefully.

“Nope,” Harry said, sadly, “they're playing Durmstrang on Friday,”

“Think they'll win?” Lydia asked him.

“Probably,” Harry sighed, “Durmstrang are a good team, but so are Ilvermorny,”

Hermione very quickly got bored of all the talk of Quidditch and bored them all with talk of NEWTs. Ron kept on saying the more that she spoke about it, the more stressed he got and Harry admitted that his revision was down to a bare minimum thanks to Quidditch. By the sounds of it, Hermione had done more than enough revision for every eighth year put together.

“But never mind that, have you two started wedding planning yet?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Merlin, Hermione, give us time,” George said, “We should probably start at some point, though,” he added to Lydia, “although, I don't actually know how to plan weddings,”

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Lydia said, “I'm sure we’ll manage to think of something, though. How hard can planning a wedding be, really?”

It turned out, that planning a wedding could be quite hard. Hermione started breaking down everything that they would need to sort out from Bridesmaids dresses, to flowers and to what on earth Lydia would do with her hair. By the time she had finished talking, Lydia had a massive headache and George looked like he was going to collapse. Even Ron and Harry looked stressed, and they didn't have much to worry about anymore apart from turning up and looking nice.

“Who would you want as your Bridesmaids, anyway?” Hermione asked.

“You, obviously,” Lydia said, “And Ginny. And I think Luna and Daphne. Why? Should I have more? Less?”

“Bill and Fleur only had two,” George pointed out, “but that's because there's too many Weasley’s and someone would end up getting offended,”

“What about groomsmen?” Ron asked, “because Bill only had Charlie as Best Man, didn't he?”

George shrugged, “I just...I always thought that Fred would be Best Man so...uh...I don't know,” He trailed off and looked away.

“Well, Harry's walking Lydia down the aisle, aren't you?” Ron asked, covering the awkwardness.

“Yeah,” Lydia said quickly, “who else would do it? Fabio?”

“That's an idea,” Ron said.

“Oh, yeah? What am I then?” Harry asked.

“Flower girl?” George suggested.

Harry glared at him and then said, “I would make a terrific flower girl,”

Talk of the wedding carried them through the rest of the night. It was only when the street lamps came on outside that Harry, Ron and Hermione realised that they needed to get back to the castle. Professor McGonagall had no problem with eighth years doing what they wanted out of school hours, but had made them all promise that it would not impact on their studies.

“See you soon, yeah?” Harry said, hugging her goodbye.

“Soon,” Lydia promised, “I’ll try and come on Saturday. I mean, I won't be doing anything else,”

The moment their feet touched down outside Weasleys Wizards Wheezes, Lydia knew that the facade of happiness that George had put up quickly dissolved. Lydia lead the way up to the flat and tried to distract him when they walked past Fred's room, but the look on his face when he saw it, told Lydia that they were in for a long night.

At first, things were going OK. Lydia poured them both a glass of Firewhiskey that they found at the very back of one of the kitchen cupboard and they sat together on the couch. They did exactly what they had done in the Three Broomsticks and did everything but talk about the fact that it was George’s birthday. That was until he burst into tears without warning and it made Lydia jump so much that she nearly sloped Firewhiskey all down herself.

“Georgie!” she exclaimed, setting her drink down and shuffling closer to him, “hey, hey, it’s OK,”

“Sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes, “I just...I just really miss him. Especially today,”

“I know,” she said quietly, putting her arm around him, “you don't need to apologise,”

“Sometimes, I worry that I'm don't run the shop as well as he did,” George said, “he was more out there than me. If that woman had started on him today, he'd have had something clever to say back to her,”

“You had something clever to say back to her,” Lydia said, “and don't be ridiculous, you are running the shop well. If you weren't, there'd be no customers,”

“I know,” he said, wiping his eyes, “and I do know, I just...I just don't feel like I'm doing it properly,”

“You're doing better than I did. I spilt a portable swamp everywhere yesterday,”

“I knew I could smell it!” he exclaimed, “how'd you manage that?”

Lydia shrugged, “I don't know. It was in the way. I did sell a lot of fireworks, though,”

George smiled at her but then the smile dropped off his face and he dropped his head onto Lydia's shoulders, tears still streaming down his face.

“I always thought he was going to be my Best Man,” George carried on, “I never questioned it. It wasn't even a question I had to ask him...it was just one of those things that he always knew,”

Lydia sighed, “I- I know it’ll be hard...choosing another Best Man, but he wouldn't have wanted you to mope about it,”

“I know,” George said. He laughed quietly, “He used to get really angry with me because I took ages to ask you out,”

She smiled, “that seems like so long ago,”

“I don't know if I can carry on with the shop without him,” He said, his voice breaking, “I don't know if I can carry on without him in general,”

“Of course you can, George,” Lydia said, firmly, “Of course you can. God, you worked so hard on that shop! You can't give up on it! Maybe...maybe, you should take a break for a while? You have enough people working for you to to take a bit of a break. I can cover some shifts for you if you need me to,”

“And have you spill all our stock of portable swamps?” George asked, laughing slightly.

“I'm going to be hearing about this forever, aren't I?”

“Oh, definitely,” George said, “I just never thought that I'd have to live without him. I don't even know how to live without him,”

“Then live for him, Georgie,” Lydia said.

“Yeah,” he said.

They were silent for a while. The only sounds were that of Fabio sleeping on the coffee table, squeaking every now and then.

“Lyds, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,”

“What's it like?” He asked, “Dying?”

Lydia froze for a moment. No one had asked her that yet and she had no good answer to it. Part of her wanted to say that it was the worst thing she had ever experienced, but then she remembered the feel of the Cruciatus Curse and knew that that wasn't true. Then she wanted to say that it felt like nothing, but even that wasn't true. She could still feel her chest throbbing when she woke up in that strange version of Kings Cross Station.

The answer soon came to her lips with the memory of a bright calming light and a wink.

“Quicker and easier than falling asleep,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!
> 
> For some reason, this chapter took me ages to write but I'm finally happy with it! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> -E.


	48. Welcome Home, Teddy

The rest of April came with wedding planning. Neither Lydia nor George really knew what they were doing. Whilst George had been to many Weasley family weddings, Lydia had only ever been to one and it had not ended well. George had written to many of the Weasley family members to ask for advice on wedding planning. It had seemed like a good idea when they had first sent the letters, but their living room was now full of lengthy letters all full of contradicting advice. Cousin Fletcher was saying that getting married in the Autumn was the best time of year because the leaves made the pictures look nicer. Aunt Dorothy, on the other hand, said that summer was the only good time to get married and it was useless getting married at any other time of the year.

The one thing that Lydia really wasn't appreciative of was all the letters she was being sent about what sort of dress would best suit her. Great - Aunt Muriel had sent her a letter writing about things that Lydia had not been insecure about previously. Even without Aunt Muriel writing about her strangely shaped hips, Lydia actually had no idea what sort of dress she had wanted. Fleur had sent her a magazine full of different types of wedding dresses; A-Line, Mermaid, Tea-length, Ball Gown. She had even written notes about what she thought would look best. Lydia knew that it was coming from a place of goodwill, but Fleur was part-Veela and everything would look good on her. She also probably didn't have strangely shaped hips.

Still, Lydia was more worried about George than what style of dress she would wear. She could tell that he was excited about the wedding, and she was thrilled that he was, but he was putting off asking someone to be his best man. Lydia had already asked Ginny, Luna and Daphne to be her bridesmaids, with Hermione as her chief bridesmaid - a role she did know existed until Fleur had told her about it. She knew that George was finding it difficult to imagine his wedding without Fred. Lydia wasn't sure she wanted to imagine a wedding without him.

“Great Merlin, I've not even thought about flowers!” George exclaimed, reading through a letter that his mum had sent him, “what flowers do-”

“Lilies,” Lydia said, without thinking.

He looked up from his letter and smiled at her, “Yeah, lilies,” he paused for a moment and then said, “I don't think I know what lilies look like,”

“They’re pretty,” said Lydia, “so was she,” Before she knew it, she was crying. George hurried over to her and put his arm around her, “Sorry, I just wish she was here,”

George sighed, “I know. It's unfair. But, they would have wanted us to have a good wedding,”

“They would have wanted to be there. And Remus. And Sirius. And F-Fred,”

“I know,” George said, “and I wanted them to be there, but there's nothing we can do to change that,” he reached around her and picked up the photo album that Hagrid had gotten her and Harry. He flicked through it and stopped on a picture of Lily, James, Peter, Sirius and Remus on her parents wedding day. The five of them were grinning at the camera, happy to be there and happy to be alive.

“If your mum had lighter hair, she definitely could have passed for a Weasley,” George said.

“Better than how her sister ended up...” Lydia muttered, “Maybe I should go and visit...”

“Y-your Aunt and Uncle?” George asked.

“Yes,” Lydia said, “I lived with them for years. I can't just...never see them again,”

“Remember Christmas in your first year when all you did was complain about them?

“I know!” Lydia exclaimed, “I know! But, I just want to know why! I want to know why they treated us like that! What could have possibly possessed them t-to treat two children like that?”

“Whatever you want,” George said quietly, “but I can't guarantee I won't punch Vernon,”

“Neither can I,” Lydia admitted.

Three days later, Lydia was covering a shift for George. She was stood in the muggle tricks section with a pureblood wizard who was trying to impress his muggle-born boyfriends parents. He didn't quite see the point in any of the tricks, and neither did Lydia, but she felt like she shouldn't tell him that. In the end, she managed to sell him a pack of cards, but he did buy them begrudgingly.

“Lydia!”

She turned around to face Jack, one of the other sale wizards.

“You alright?” She asked, “what's up?”

“There's some Ministry officials waiting for you upstairs,”

“What have I done now?”

“I don't know, but they look unhappy,”

“They always do, Jack, they always do,” Lydia said, “Well, see you later,”

Trying not to look as though she was terrified about what was awaiting her upstairs, she smiled at Jack and ran upstairs. The door of the flat was open when she got there, which couldn’t mean anything good. Trying to convince herself that nothing terrible had happened, she walked inside. She found them in the kitchen. No one was speaking; George was sat at the kitchen table and the two Ministry officials were stood by the sink. It was only when Lydia cleared her throat that anyone noticed that she was there.

“Does anyone want to tell me what's going on?” Lydia asked.

“You are Lydia Potter, yes?” One of the ministry officials said.

“Before I answer that, you're not going to arrest me, are you?”

“Obviously it's her. We’re in her flat, with her fiancé and she's wearing a name tag that clearly states that she is Lydia Potter,” the other one scoffed, “Miss Potter, I am Freya Azroff and this is my colleague, Martin Flowder. We work with the Department of Children and Families at the Ministry,”

“Right...” Lydia said, slowly, “So, you're going to adopt me?”

George sniggered and then stopped himself, “Yeah, what is going on?”

“Last night, Andromeda Tonks died,” Martin said.

Lydia felt her knees give way beneath her and she gripped hold of the edge of the kitchen table to keep herself from falling. She looked over at George whose mouth was hanging open.

“Died?” Lydia whispered, “How?”

“She was ill for sometime. Probably effects of the war. She admitted herself to St Mungo’s,” he said flippantly, “there wash thing that any of the Healers could do to save her,”

Lydia groaned, shaking her head. Hermione had said that Andromeda had looked ill at Christmas. They should have done something. They should have asked her if she was OK. Maybe then she could have survived a little longer for Teddy.

“Remus Lupin named you as godmother and your brother as godfather,” Martin continued, “And with your brother still in school, you’re his legal guardian. You're no longer in school, you have a job, a place to live...”

“Merlin...” George muttered, putting his head in his hands.

“I'm...I’m...I’m eighteen,” she whispered.

“You're an adult,” Martin said.

“That's debatable!” Lydia shouted, “I can't look after myself! How do you expect me to look after a baby? I mean...how old is he now?”

“Today is his first birthday,” Freya said, softly.

“H-his first birthday?” Lydia asked quietly, “He's alone...on his first birthday? With no family to look after him?”

“That's the case, yes,”

Lydia sank into the chair next to George and squeezed her eyes shut. Teddy Lupin was a year old and had no one. Even she and Harry had not been so unlucky to be completely on their own. They had, after all, had each other. Teddy had no one. Not even a cruel Aunt or Uncle. She wiped her eyes and looked over at George who looked shell shocked. They were in no shape to bring up a baby, and yet, little Teddy Lupin was somewhere all alone. And Lydia had promised to look after him, should she ever have to.

“Where is he now?” George asked.

“The Ministry,” Freya replied, “Should you not take him in, he’ll go to an orphanage,”

“An orphanage? Where?” Lydia asked.

“Well, we'd have to find him a place first, of course,” Martin said, “but it could be anywhere,”

Lydia groaned and looked away. The only person she could think of was Tom Riddle. He had lost his parents at a young age and ended up in a Muggle orphanage. What if Teddy ended up in a Muggle orphanage? What if the stress of knowing he was completely different to the other children lead him to hate Muggles. What if he ended up like Lord Voldemort?

“We can't leave him in an orphanage,” Lydia whispered.

“I know,” George said. He turned back to Freya and Martin, “say we took him in, when do we pick him up?”

“Tomorrow,” Freya replied, “that way it gives you time to prepare,” she waved her wand and a stack of parchment landed in front of them, “that's everything that you need to bring up a child,”

Lydia glanced at George who was suddenly smiling, “Are we about to become parents?”

“I think so,”

They agreed to pick Teddy up from the Ministry the next day and the moment Lydia and George were alone again, they both dissolved into a state of panic. George was running around the flat trying to make sure that it was inhabitable for a baby, and Lydia paced up and down in the kitchen, wringing her hands together. Agreeing to take Teddy in might have been the stupidest thing either of them had ever done. Sometimes they forgot to cook dinner for themselves and sometimes they spilt water in the bathroom and wouldn't clean it up until one of them slipped in it. She walked into the living room and could have burst into tears. It was full of nonsensical wedding planning and at once, Lydia knew that their wedding would probably have to be put on hold as well.

George came back into the living room, looking haggard. He glanced at all their wedding planning and flicked his wand. All the sheafs of parchment and letters organised themselves into neat piles on the coffee table. He walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

“We’re going to be able to do this, you know,” he said, “somehow,”

“Are we?” She asked.

“Course we can,” he said, shrugging, “unless you want him to go to an orphanage?”

“No!” Lydia said quickly, “God, no. He's not growing up like me and Harry. What if a family like the Dursleys adopted him?”

George smiled and kissed the top of her head, “You don't have to worry about that. You don't have to worry about them ever again,”

“Hey, we should probably go to The Burrow,” she said suddenly, “unless you want to give your poor mother a heart attack when we turn up for Sunday dinner with a baby,”

“Mum and dad managed to bring up loads of kids, I'm sure they'll tell us what to do,” George said, “Or they'll think it's a terrible idea and won't tell us anything,”

“Don't start panicking out loud! Because if you start panicking out loud then I'll start panicking out loud!” Lydia said.

“Right! Let's internalise everything because that's a good idea, isn't it?”

“Don't test me now, Weasley,”

“I wouldn't never do that, Almost-Weasley,”

Lydia glared at him, “Don't start calling me that,”

“I’ll stop calling you that when you're an actual Weasley, Almost-Weasley,”

When they got to The Burrow, they found Bill and Percy tending to the kitchens in the yard with Mr Weasley. Lydia was surprised to see Mr Weasley. She had expected him to be in work, but the fact that he wasn't working as many hours could only mean that things were getting better.

“Weren't expecting you two,” Bill called over to them.

“We have news,” George said.

“What kind of news?” Mr Weasley asked, hesitantly.

“Good news,” Lydia said hurriedly, “At least...I think it's good news,”

“Where's everyone else?” George asked.

“Mum and Fleur are in the garden,” Percy said, “are you sure you two are alright? You look as though you've just had the shock of your lives,”

“Oh, Perce, you have no idea,” George sighed.

“They have news,” Mr Weasley said when they walked into the garden.

“Did you hear about Andromeda?” Lydia asked, sitting next to Fleur, “She, uh, she died. Last night,”

“Oh, how awful,” said Mrs Weasley, “What's happened to little Teddy - oh, Great Merlin...godmother...”

“Yep,” Lydia said, nodding, “godmother,”

“I'm confused,” Bill said, “what's going on?”

“Remus made Harry and Lydia godmother, remember? And since Harry's in school still...”

“And you're sure you're ready to look after a baby?” Mr Weasley asked.

“It's us or an orphanage,” George said.

Mrs Weasley seemed to have transformed into her old self. She took Lydia and George by the hand and dragged them into the house, talking about everything that they needed from nappies, to dummies, to clothes and to the kind of food that he would probably eat. Lydia was trying to keep up with everything that she was saying, but she was too busy grinning at the fact that Mrs Weasley was   
herself again. It was almost as though Fred had never died.

“You know, I think we’ll have some old clothes from when you were all babies,” Mrs Weasley said, distractedly.

“Mum, calm down, I'm sure Teddy will already have clothes. He is a year old,” Bill said, walking into the room, “I'm going to go and try and sort out the funeral with Percy, does she have any other family?”

“The Malfoys,” Lydia said, “I think that’s the only people left,”

Bill nodded, “you couldn’t write to Draco Malfoy for us, could you?”

“Yeah,” She said, “I’ll do it now,”

It took her awhile to write the letter, for the main reason that she didn't really know what to say. It was a strange thing to write to someone telling them that their aunt, who they probably never met, had died, leaving behind his second cousin, who he previously would have had nothing to do with. Lydia knew that she would probably be able to tell him all this through the mirror, but telling him face to face seemed even strange. After starting over again at least five times, Lydia signed the letter off and tied it to the leg of Hermes, Percy’s owl.

“You need to tell Harry,” George said to her quietly.

“I know,” she muttered, “Christ, that's going to be a weird conversation,” she fished the mirror out of her bag, “I'm going to lock myself in the living room,”

“That's what I do when I start to panic,” George said solemnly.

“Harry,” Lydia said into the mirror.

His face materialised in the mirror and she opened her mouth to start speaking, but he quickly put his finger to his lips and then pointed at his ear. She bent closer to the mirror to hear better and then heard Professor Slughorn's voice.

“Now, if you put too much dragon liver in it, then it will become nothing but a potion that tastes disgusting. It will not help anyone at all,”

Harry cleared his throat, “Professor Slughorn, sir, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Of course, Harry, m’boy, of course,”

“Thanks, sir,”

Lydia could see nothing but black for a while as he held the mirror to his robes. She heard the dungeon door open and shut and then saw Harry’s face again. He grinned broadly at her.

“I told you, you need to check the time before you use this thing. Some of us are still in school,”

“Yeah, well this is important,” Lydia said.

“What?”

“Don't freak out,”

“Lyds, if you start a question, ‘don't freak out’, then I'm going to freak out,”

“Andromeda’s died,”

He froze, “What? When?”

“Yesterday,” Lydia groaned, “Harry, Teddy’s coming to live with us,”

Harry stared at her in a stunned silence and she finally allowed herself to cry a little. She had never been so terrified of doing something in her life. Not even walking to her death was this scary. Then, the only person she had to worry about was herself. Now she had a whole other life to worry about and care for, and she had no idea how she was going to do that.

“W-what? How are you...how are you going to look after him?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted, “I genuinely have no idea what I'm going to do,”

He was silent for a few more seconds, and Lydia thought that he was angry but then he started to grin again. It was the happiest that he had looked in a while.

“I'm going to be an uncle!”

“Harry,” she said, “seriously, I don't know what I'm going to do,”

“You're going to raise Teddy with George and it’ll be amazing,” he said, “Remus wouldn't have chosen you for godmother if he didn't think that you could do it,”

“I don't think Remus was planning on dying in the war,” Lydia pointed out.

“Don't be daft, Lydia, he knew what could happen. He wouldn't have chosen just anyone,”

“Yeah, well...we’re going to pick him up from the Ministry tomorrow,” she told him, “Bill and Percy have gone to sort out Andromeda’s funeral. I'll let you know when it is to see if you can get away,”

He nodded, “Yeah, keep me updated on everything. Can I tell Ron and Hermione?”

Lydia finally found it in herself to smile again, “You can. But tell Hermione to limit her letters to like...three a day. And make sure she doesn't expect me to write back to every single one. I am going to have a baby tomorrow,”

She dropped the mirror onto the couch next to her and sighed, sinking back into the couch cushions. Her heart was beating one million times faster than usual and Lydia couldn't quite remember what life was like when she wasn't constantly planning. She assumed that everyone always panicked this much before having a baby. Then again, most people had nine months to prepare for having a child. Recently, she had been so focused on getting the wedding out of the way, that she hadn't even thought about children. It was at times like this that she longed for her parents advice. They had been young and unprepared when they had had Lydia and Harry. They would know exactly what to say to her to put her mind at ease.

There was a knock on the door and George walked in. Lydia smiled and nodded at him to tell him that everything with Harry was OK and he let out a sigh of relief. He sat down next to her and put his arm around in her silence. They sat in silence for a while. There was no need to say anything for they were both thinking the same thing. Lydia closed her eyes and rested her head on George’s shoulder, thinking about what the next day would bring in a mixture of nerves and excitement. Though, there was a deep sadness there; she couldn't stand the fact that Andromeda had died so soon after Remus and Tonks. At the age of one, Teddy had already experienced loss that most adults would not be able to understand. She couldn't stand the fact that Fred would not be there to see him, or the fact that Lydia's parents would not be there.

“It's going to be OK,” George murmed.

“I know,” Lydia said.

And for the first time in a while, she actually believed what she was saying.   
\---

It was three in the morning, and Lydia was stood in the nursery that she and George had quickly put together in the spare room the night before they brought Teddy home. They had finally managed to get Teddy to stop crying and it had not been easy. Lydia knew that he was crying for his grandmother and she wondered if she and Harry had been the same the first night they stayed at the Dursleys. She felt anger prickle as she stared down at Teddy sleeping peacefully and wondering how on earth anyone could abuse a child, especially children that had been through so much so soon.

And yet, Teddy was still better off than she and Harry had been. He was promised a normal life. He would not be made a soldier, destined for a mission that he might not come back from. He would not have to grow up in an abusive household and forced to live under the stairs. He would have amazing guardians in Lydia and George and he would always have Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasley’s supporting him through life every step of the way. Lydia would make sure that he was never left to fend for himself like she and Harry was. She would make sure that when he eventually went to Hogwarts, he would look forward to coming home at Christmas and during the Summer. Before he knew spells and potions and Quidditch formations, Teddy Lupin would know love.

“I'm going to bed,” George whispered, “You coming?”

“Yeah, in a minute,” Lydia whispered back.

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek, “You know, I always thought we'd be married before we had kids,”

“Welcome home, Teddy,” Lydia whispered. She gently kissed his forehead and followed George out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this took so long to get up and I'm so thankful that it finally did. But, in my defence, it's been my brothers birthday weekend so I've been very busy pretending to my nice to him. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos, they always put a smile on my face! Thank-you!!
> 
> -E.


	49. Love Is Stronger Than Death

In eighteen years of living, Lydia had been to fifty one funerals, with the fifty second being that morning. Most of the funerals had took place over the same four weeks, some of them even being on the same day. Every single one was as equally heartbreaking and difficult to sit through. The Daily Prophet reporters that were always stood at the back were never helpful, either. The sound of the camera shutters and the scribbling quills on parchment just brought back awful memories of Rita Skeeter that Lydia would much rather forget.

On the not so bright side, there would be no reporters at Andromeda's funeral. At least, Lydia hoped that there wouldn't be. Her death had been reported in the In Memoriam section of the Daily Prophet, with the details of her funeral but she had not been a high profile person, and so there should be no public interest. George did point out that although Andromeda had not been in the public eye, Lydia was and so he would not be surprised if there were a few reporters; something that Lydia would be fine with, as long as Rita Skeeter was not around to ask insensitive questions.

The morning of Andromeda's funeral was a somber one. Even Teddy seemed to have realised that the mornings activities were not a fun one, because he was very quiet. Though, that could have been because it was getting close to the full moon. Bill had warned them that Teddy might get a little strange around the full moon like he did. And when Lydia had gone into the nursery this morning to wake him up, he did look a little ill.

“You’ve got an owl here,” George said, dropping a letter next to her as she got Teddy dressed, “I think it's off Draco,”

“Cheers,” Lydia said, ripping it open and reading it quickly, “Yeah, he's just saying that him and his mum are coming today...oh my god, and his dad,”

“His dad?” George asked, sounding surprised, “I completely forgot he existed. He must have come out of Azkaban ages ago,”

“January, I think,” Lydia said. Then she shrugged, “I don't know. He never really mentioned him to me,”

George looked mildly interested for a moment and then shrugged again, “Makes no difference to us, I suppose. Ron, Harry and Hermione coming today?”

“Yeah. I think quite a few teachers are, as well. Depends who can get away - get Teddy and Fabio some breakfast, will you? I need to do my hair,”

“Yes, you do,” George said, picking Teddy up, “it looks terrible,”

“Oh, shut up,”

“Unc George! Unc George!” Teddy said, tugging at his robes, “Nanna! Nanna!”

“Yes, Teddy, I know you want banana, you don't need to keep on telling me,” George said, picking him up, “and you don't need to turn your hair yellow, I know what a banana is, mate,”

She smiled as George carried Teddy out of the room and wondered if there would ever be a time when she wouldn't flinch every time Teddy called her, “Aunt Lyd,” or if she would stop going cold whenever he called George, “Unc George,”. She had to keep on reminded herself that though they shared the same title, they were not, and never would be, the Dursleys.

“Not the Dursleys,” Lydia whispered as she put Teddy in his pram when they were finally ready to leave, “ _Never_ the Dursleys,”

Lydia did not want to start comparing funerals, but after going to as many as she had, it was starting to become quite impossible. Lydia and George were the first to arrive with Teddy in his pram, fast asleep. She hoped that he would sleep through the service, because the last thing anyone needed was a wailing baby. Though, Lydia wasn't entirely that she would get through the service without wailing.

They hovered outside the little chapel, waiting for the others to arrive. Andromeda had requested a muggle funeral service; one last act of defiance against the family that she turned her back on. Lydia thought that this was a very noble thing to do, but was hoping that Teddy wouldn't give them away by changing the colour of his hair. Currently, it was the same shade of light brown as his fathers and Lydia was finding it hard to look at him; she had never quite appreciated how much he looked like Remus.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Professor Slughorn and McGonagall were the first to arrive, walking down the small lane together. A big deal was made out of Teddy and an even bigger deal was made out of the fact that Lydia and George were parents by Hermione, who kept on repeating how she couldn't believe that she was basically an auntie. Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione but then all but shrieked with glee when Teddy woke up and his hair was suddenly black and messy like Harry’s. This time, it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes and Lydia's turn to start praying that Teddy wouldn't begin to change his hair colour every time he looked at someone new.

There was a crack behind Lydia and she jumped, whirling around, her wand drawn. She let out a sigh of relief and lowered her wand when she saw that it was only Draco and his mother, but then put it up again when she saw Lucius Malfoy.

“Sorry,” she said, hurriedly stowing her wand anyway, “I forgot...wars over,”

Lucius regarded her for a moment and she thought that he might say something to her, but then turned his back on the group. Draco looked quite awkward and Lydia didn't blame him. The last time that Lydia had seen Lucius Malfoy before the war was over, was at Malfoy Manor, and there weren't many happy memories to associate with that place. George had taken one look at Lucius and then busied himself with taking Teddy out of his pram. He had never explicitly spoke about what had happened during the months that he was held at the Manor, but she had a feeling that Lucius Malfoy might have had a thing or two do with him being tortured. Lydia thought about it for a while and decided that Andromeda would have probably been quite angry if someone didn't punch Lucius.

“So,” Narcissa said, breaking the silence and looking over at Teddy, “this is my nephew, is it?”

George held Teddy closer to his chest, “yes,”

Narcissa seemed to notice his hostility and actually took a step backwards, “it's strange...he looks awfully like him,” she nodded at Harry.

“He's a Metamorphmagus,” Lydia said, fighting to keep the coldness out of her voice, “Surely you knew that,

“I did not speak to my sister after she was disowned. I knew nothing about her or her family,”

No one seemed to know what to say after this. Without anyone realising, Draco had somehow managed to walk away from his parents and was stood besides Harry, his arms tightly folded. The awkwardness was punctuated by the arrival of the Weasleys and the Malfoys were very quickly forgotten.

The funeral seemed to speed by. After the Weasleys arrived, no one else did with the exception of two elderly Muggles sat at the very back. Though Lydia felt like they might have been sat there out of pity. Teddy would have been well behaved, if not the fact that he decided that copying George’s hair halfway through the Vicar's sermon would be a good idea. The Vicar stumbled over his words slightly as he looked over at Teddy and George only just managed to conceal him from view. Lydia was depending on the Vicar to think that Teddy's hair was a trick of light, rather than real magic.

After the burial had taken place, they stood congregated around the headstone for a while. Andromeda was buried next to Remus, Tonks and Ted but Lydia could barely bring herself to look; a whole family gone in less than a year, leaving the most vulnerable out of them all alone. Lydia felt a lump begin to form in her throat and looked away again. Narcissa and Lucius were stood alone, not quite a part of the group. For a moment, she wondered if maybe they could ever find some sort of civility, but then she remembered the horrors that they had allowed to take place in their home and turned away from them again. Becoming friends with Draco was one thing, welcoming his family into their lives was another thing entirely.

It took Professor McGonagall saying she needed to get back to Hogwarts to wake everyone from their stupor. Professor Slughorn left soon after, quickly followed by Narcissa and Lucius. Lydia noticed that their was a distinct frostiness in the way that Draco said goodbye to his parents, but did not mention anything. Like she did when they had visited Lily and James’ graves, Hermione carefully moved her wand in a circle and a wreath of roses appeared on each grave.

Not wanting to stay in the cemetery for much longer, they ventured into the village and found a small and deserted cafe. It was not quite the wake that Andromeda deserved to have held in her memory, but it was the best that they could do.

“So, how's life with Teddy?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Tiring,” George said, “especially at the moment, it's getting close to the full moon,”

“He's not a werewolf, though,” Ron said.

“No, but neithers Bill and he's still a nightmare once a month,” George said, “Teddy’s a half werewolf, remember? There was a massive thing about his dad being a werewolf at school or have you managed to forget that?”

Ron rolled his eyes at his brother, “I'll have you know that I was there when he transformed,”

“Really? You never mentioned it over the summer,”

“Oh, shut up, you two,” Hermione said. She turned to Lydia, “So, your wedding dress...”

“What about it?” Lydia asked.

“When are you going shopping for it?”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, I don't know. I've not really thought about it,” Lydia admitted, “I got quite preoccupied by Teddy,”

“We should go this summer, once we’ve left Hogwarts,” Hermione said, continuing on as though she had not heard her, “but I've been thinking about it, a lot, and I think you should go to a Muggle shop. It'd be much less stressful than going to a Wizarding shop because...well...they wouldn't get distracted by...you,”

“Distracted by - oh, no, yeah, good point,” Lydia sighed, “We don't even have a date. We almost had a date but then the whole thing with Teddy happened and we then lost the date. And we need to make sure it's not on the anniversary of someone's death, on someone's birthday, on the anniversary of Hogwarts or during a week leading up to a full moon - for Bill _and_ Teddy,”

“Which leave about three days out of the whole year,” Ron said.

“Basically, yeah,” Lydia said, “so, please, none of you get involved with any werewolves until after I'm married,”

“Well, there goes my summer plans,” George sighed.

“Speaking of the Battle of Hogwarts,” Harry interrupted before Lydia could say something snide back, “it's the anniversary on Sunday,”

Lydia was taken aback. Even though the day had been playing on her mind for weeks, she had not actually thought that it would ever come, and now it was only two days away. Automatically, she looked over at George who had gone very pale and was staring out of the window, Ron looked as equally uncomfortable and was staring down at his hands. They had had a whole year without Fred.

Harry put his hand on Lydia's and she knew exactly what he was thinking; a year ago, they were planning on breaking into Gringotts. A year ago, they were still chasing Horcruxes having no idea if they would live to see another year. The fact that they had survived, despite everything, was still shocking to Lydia and there were still days when she wasn't sure if she was actually alive or not.

She turned to her brother and smiled, “Yeah. We’re all at Hogwarts, aren't we?”

“Yeah,” he said, “McGonagall asked me if we wanted to speak-”

“No,” Lydia said quickly.

He held up his hands, “Yes, Lyds, I know. I said that neither of us would be able to string a coherent sentence together. She looked quite relieved, actually,”

“Who's speaking, then?” George asked, quietly.

“Professor McGonagall, Kingsley, Neville and I,” Hermione replied.

Lydia laughed quietly, “Who would have thought that in first year, Neville Longbottom would have been the one to make a speech?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, smiling slightly, “I’ll never forget our first flying lesson,”

“Neither will I,” Draco muttered, speaking for the first time. He looked up at them, tears sparkling in his eyes, “I'm sorry about my family. I'm sorry I was such a prat for a long time,”

“Draco, I'm quite sure you've said that to us enough,” Hermione said.

“I’ll never be able to say it to any of you enough,” Draco said. He glanced over at Teddy who had fallen asleep on Lydia's lap, “There could have been a time when I never saw him,”

“Don't get hung up on it,” Harry said, speaking very softly, “We should...we should just be thankful that we’re all here, alive and well,” Draco smiled at him slightly.

“Yeah, I didn't lose an ear for you to get all the attention,” George put in.

“Because you've not had enough attention in your life,” said Lydia.

“And now Teddy is the cutest person in any room, regardless of whether I'm in it or not, it's like I'm not even there,”

“You're definitely part of the family now anyway, mate,” Ron said, clapping Draco on the back and ignoring his brother, “what happened at school was just us all being young stupid. Now, we’re just slightly older and still quite dim, but not as dim. It all levels out,”

\---

The first thing that Lydia did when she woke up on the second day of May, was appreciate how lucky she was to be alive. The second thing that Lydia did when she woke up on the second day of May, was cry because it was an awful day, and one that she would have much rather slept through. George woke up minutes later, and very soon, they were both crying. When Teddy heard them crying though the walls, he was crying and together, the three of them were inconsolable. The only member of the family who wasn't crying, was Fabio, but that was because he was a Pygmy Puff and had no concept of time.

“We can get through today,” George said to her, “if we could get through it last year, we can get through it today,”

They were sat in bed, a tray of untouched breakfast sat at the foot of bed where Fabio was steadily eating his way through George’s stack of toast. Teddy was sat up in between them, munching on cut up pieces of banana and giggling at Fabio. Lydia tried not to think about how much he would come to hate this day when he was older; he would probably regard it with the same disdain Lydia and Harry did with Halloween.

Lydia nodded, “You're right,” she sniffed and wiped her eyes, “don't you think it's strange? How this time last year, we had no idea what was going to happen? H-how Fred was still here? And Prof-Professor Babbling? And Remus and Tonks?”

“He was really here,” George whispered. “Sometimes it's like he never existed...like he was a figment of my imagination...do you get like that? About your mum and dad?”

“All the time,” Lydia answered, truthfully. “Not so much with my dad because I knew him, for a while, anyway. But with my mum, every day. It's strange but, the first time I realised she really existed was when I read that letter she sent to Sirius. When she wrote about me and Harry...” She looked over at Teddy, “I wish she were here to meet Teddy. And dad. And Fred,”

“Fred always used to go on about how he'd be the best Uncle out of us all,” George said, laughing, “he probably would have been, actually...”

“Teddy’s taken a liking to you,” Lydia pointed out, “and from all the Uncles I know, you're doing pretty well,”

“I hate that,”

“What?”

“How you talk so casually about the Dursleys,” he said, “you and Harry both do it all the time. You don't even realise it,”

Lydia blinked and him and then shrugged, “it was our lives for almost sixteen years.

You just get used to it, I guess. Being locked in a cupboard under the stairs and not being fed properly stops being a big deal by the time your seven and it's all you’ve ever known,” she frowned at herself after she had finished speaking. Maybe she should go to therapy.

“Lydia...” George said, “that's a big deal,”

“I know,” she replied, “but I don't want to talk about it. Today isn't about the Dursleys or me and Harry. It's about every one who laid down their life,”

“You laid down your life,” George pointed out.

“Yeah, but I came back. I don't count,” Lydia shrugged.

George looked like he wanted to counter what she said, but then shook his head and pushed himself out of bed, “Come on. We need to get ready,”

They eventually made it to Hogwarts, though it took every fibre of their being to actually do so. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville were waiting for them in the Entrance Hall. Lydia wished that they could have been there under happier circumstances, but there was no point in wishing for something that could never come true.

“Hey,” Harry said, hugging her, “You OK?”

“No,”

“Me neither,” he whispered. He pulled away and waved at Teddy, “Hello, Teddy,”

“I'd leave that pram here,” Neville said, “we'll be out by the lake,”

“Oh, brilliant,” Lydia muttered, picking Teddy up, “I’ll have a fantastic view of the forest, just what I need today,”

“Where are the Potters? They better be here, because if not - ah, Harry, Lydia, there you are,” it was Professor McGonagall, looking quite stressed. She rushed over to them, trying to brush the hair out of her eyes, “If you could please wait with me in the Great Hall, then we can wait for everyone to take their seats,”

“Do we really have to have a grand entrance, Professor?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” McGonagall said, “I don't like it either, Potter, but it isn't actually up to us,”

Lydia groaned and handed Teddy over to George, who tried to smile encouragingly at her. Hermione quickly hugged her, told her that everything would be fine and hurried out of the hall with Ron, George and Neville. Praying that the ground would swallow her up before they were called outside, Lydia sank onto the bench at the Slytherin table, her head in her hands. Harry sat next to to her and the three of them sat in silence until Kingsley came in the hall and beckoned them over.

“Lovely to see you, Lydia, even under these circumstances,” he said, shaking her hand, “are we all ready?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Harry said.

“Don't worry about a thing,” Kingsley said, soothingly. “Your only job is to walk to the front row and sit down. Lydia, your seat is next to George, Harry, you're on her other side. Got it?”

Lydia shrugged, “How hard can that be?”

It turned out to be one of the hardest things that Lydia had ever done. When they walked out into the grounds, the first thing Lydia saw was the swaying trees of the forbidden forest. Immediately, tears sprang to her eyes and she gripped onto Harry's hand in a desperate attempt to steady herself. He turned to her, tears in his own eyes and squeezed her hand.

“It's OK,” he whispered.

As they began to walk to their seats, those gathered there burst into applause. Lydia felt her face begin to burn and she looked at the ground; the last thing she wanted was people to applaud them. They did not go after Voldemort in search of glory, but because they had no choice. She heard the familiar sound of the camera shutter and felt the flash of the bulb and wanted nothing more than to get away from it all. If it weren't for the fact that the faces of those who died had been burned into her memory, she probably would have turned around and got as far away from the castle as it could. Forcing herself to look up, Lydia looked into the crowd, taking in who was there; the foreign students were sat nearest to the back, and looked as though they weren't sure what to do and Hagrid was sat in the very back, already crying into his handkerchief. On the right hand side, the faculty sat with the Minister for Magic. Lydia felt a rush of anger as her eyes fell on Adeline Scrimgeour but quickly looked away, reminding herself that Scrimgeour had every right to be there.

Feeling as though she was about to have a panic attack, Lydia sought out friendlier faces and quickly found them. Luna, Dean, Seamus and Ernie were all sat together towards the middle. Behind the full Weasley family, Daphne and Astoria sat with two people who Lydia assumed to be their parents. Urquhart was sat on Daphne’s other side and smiled at Lydia slightly when she caught his eye. Draco was sat besides Zabini and Pansy Parkinson at the very end of that row. Dennis Creevey was sat besides his father, tears already streaming down their faces and it took Lydia every ounce of willpower she possessed to not start telling them how sorry she was. The Patil twins were sat besides them, both looking completely blank and like they weren't quite sure how to act.

An eternity seemed to have passed but they finally made it to their seats. She immediately looked over at George, who was already crying. Teddy took one look at the both of them crying and burst into tears himself. George tried to shush him but it was no use and all attention was still on them. Harry nudged her slightly and pointed ahead and Lydia thought that she might vomit.

Someone, and Lydia had the strangest feeling that it was Luna, had constructed a kind of memorial. It was a wall of flowers and, hidden within the flowers, were paintings of those who had died at the Battle of Hogwarts. But they were not magical portraits for they did not move, and somehow, that was more poignant. Lydia quickly scanned it, tears now streaming down her face. The painting of Fred was closest to her, smirking. Next to him, was Colin Creevey, smiling as broadly as he always did. Professor Babbling was smiling near the top next to Lavender Brown. In the very middle, spaced barely a inch apart, were pictures of Remus and Tonks. Lydia suddenly became very fixated on them and could not tear her eyes away from them. She only did when she realised that Teddy had stopped crying, because he was starting the portraits of his parents with wide eyes, as though he somehow recognised them. At the very bottom of the piece, Luna had neatly written, _“Love is stronger than death,”_

“Love is stronger than death,” Lydia whispered.

Harry turned to her, properly crying now, “Voldemorts one true fear... _love_ ,”

Lydia tried to listen to Kingsley and Professor McGonagall when they were speaking, but she could not tear her eyes away from what was written at the bottom of the memorial. Snippets of what was being said reached her ears,”bravery,” “strength,” “love,”...none of it really impacted her, but she politely clapped all the same when they had finished speaking. It was only when a shaking Hermione brushed past her that Lydia looked over at her best friend.

“My name is Hermione Granger, and I'm a Mudblood,”

There were a few gasps in the audience but Lydia felt herself start to grin. Only Hermione would make a political statement now, and she loved it. She looked over at Ron, who looked as though he had been hit over the head with a Bludger.

“From the moment I stepped foot in the Wizarding World, that was the name that attached itself to me and there was nothing that I could do to get away from it. When Lord Voldemort came out of hiding at the end of my fifth year, it was a word I heard more and more. It followed me through the halls of Hogwarts as I tried to study for my NEWTs, like a ghost that had latched onto me. But I ignored it. I said that it would never define me. I am more than a Muggleborn. I'm a daughter, a friend - a _best_ friend, a girlfriend, and a Witch,” she took a deep, calming breath.

“And yet, as my sixth year drew to a close, and the war was truly upon us, I realised that I was Muggleborn first, and a daughter and a best friend last. The Ministry were rounding us up like animals and I had to go into hiding. I had to send my parents away and pray that the war would end before someone could find them.

“I went on the run, desperate to save a world that didn't really care about me, and we did it,” Hermione said, “I watched my two best friends save the Wizarding World, and then we all had to pretend that everything was OK. That injustice no longer exists, but the sad truth is, is that it does. It's not gone away. And, in a year, we’ve made absolutely no progress.

“Still, the word Mudblood follows me around. It was used against me then, and is used against me now,” she looked up at the crowd and fire seemed to flash through her eyes, “fifty people died on this day one year ago in the hopes of a better tomorrow. Some of them were Mudbloods like me. If you want to honour their memories _properly_ , then you start at the very basic level of treating people equally, because when you don't, you carry on the legacy of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The only legacies we should be carrying, are the likes of Colin Creevey and Professor Babbling, two Mudbloods who died protecting this castle,”

She paused for a moment, “No more blood supremacy, no more fighting. If love won us this war, it can carry us on for the rest of time,”

There was an applause so loud that the birds in the trees of the Forbidden Forest squawked and took flight out of fear. They had always joked about it, but now that Lydia really thought about it, there was every chance that Hermione could actually become the first Muggleborn Minister for Magic.

Neville was the last up, looking terrified but determined. He glanced over the crowd, seemed to realise how many people were there, and paled before clenching his jaw and glancing down at his notes.

“A year ago today, all of our lives were changed forever. Whether it be because we lost someone in the battle, fought in it ourselves or sat tight at home, desperate for updates on our friends and family,” he began, “I know my life completely changed a year ago today; I watched Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters reign terror onto this castle, but I also saw it fight back. I watched as my fellow classmates, some barely old enough to fight, draw their wands against the most powerful - sorry, he was never the most powerful - against the Darkest Wizard of our times, in the full understanding that they might not come out the other side, and it made me realise that no matter what, no matter how hard it tries, hate and intolerance never wins,”

Lydia sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. If eleven year old Neville could see eighteen year old Neville, she felt as though he would probably collapse. Lydia wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't collapse at some point.

“And I know that they wouldn't want to be mentioned, but they deserve it,” Neville said, looking over at where Lydia was sat, “Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger walked away from the safety of their families in the hope that they might be able to stop Lord Voldemort one way or another. And I know that Harry and Lydia didn't even have to ask them to come with them, they just did. They just went with them because, really, what are best friends for if not to hunt down and kill the Dark Lord?”

Lydia managed a small laugh and turned to look at Ron and Hermione, knowing that she could never put into words how much they really meant to her.

“And, of course, we have to mention the Children who Lived,” He said, “because, without them, we wouldn't be stood here. Lydia Potter was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice at the age of seventeen, all because it was the right thing to do. And then, Harry Potter fought a duel that no one else would have had the guts to do. He was the one who took on Lord Voldemort one last time and came out the other end. Lord Voldemort was never the most powerful wizard alive, because it was always Harry and Lydia,”

There was another round of applause and Lydia had to look away from Neville for a moment, trying to gather herself together.

“There are so many stories I could tell about any of these people that died on this day a year ago,” Neville continued, “I could tell countless stories about how Fred Weasley tried to make everyone laugh in the reign of Professor Umbridge,” Lydia smiled to herself as a memory of Headless Hats popped into her mind. George was fully sobbing now, and Lydia did not blame him.

“I could tell you about how Lavender Brown used to help me with my Transfiguration homework, but only if I helped her with Herbology,” he smiled sadly, “but, I want to tell you about one of the best teachers I ever had; Remus Lupin. He was the first teacher who made me realise that I was more than my abysmal Potions marks. He was the person who encouraged me to talk more about how good I am at Herbology, and how I'm not actually terrible at Defence Against the Dark Arts, despite what my first two years at Hogwarts might have suggested.

“And even after he left, I used to think about how good of a teacher he was...and just, how nice of a person he was. And echoing what Hermione said, if we want to be better than Voldemort and his Death Eaters, we should be more like Remus Lupin, maybe then we’ll start heading in the right direction,”

Once the service was over, and Lydia had cried more than she ever had done in her life, they slowly made their way back up to the castle for a feast. Lydia had not realised how hungry she had been until the smell of the Great Hall reached her. They did not go inside straight away though. There was a lot more hugging of people she had not seen for a while, a little bit more crying and a lot of passing Teddy around and confirming that he was in fact, very cute every time someone exclaimed, “oh, he's so sweet, isn't he?”

Harry and Lydia stood alone outside the Great Hall. Lydia was gently rocking Teddy to sleep so that George could eat in peace. She did wish that he would hurry up, her stomach was grumbling so loudly that she would worried that it might actually wake Teddy up.

Professor McGonagall walked up behind them, smiled at Teddy and shoved something into Harry's hands, “I think you might like to keep this,” she said, “I don't need it now,”

“Oh, thank-you, Professor,” Harry said, smiling at her. He frowned at her retreating back and then looked down at what was in his hands, “Oh, fucking hell!”

“Harry!” she hissed, “Teddy’s here!”

“No,” he said, “look!”

She looked down and gasped, immediately recognising James’ writing.

“ _Minnie!_ _  
_ _  
_ _You’ll never guess what's happened! Lily had the babies! We have two babies! They've only been alive five minutes and yet they are the greatest thing that have EVER happened to the world!_ _  
_ _  
_ _We have a boy and a girl which is good, because I was worried that I wouldn't be able to tell them apart if not. Gideon Prewett told me about how his sister had a set of twin boys last year and no one can tell them apart, even their own mother! Sirius and Remus are here with me. We’re a bit upset that Pete couldn't be here, but he said that he's going to try and see us as soon as possible. He seems a bit distant recently, but Lily thinks I'm being paranoid but I've known him long enough to know that something isn't quite right._ _  
_ _  
_ _Anyway, we called the boy Harry James and the girl Lydia Lily! Which are like, the best names in the world. For the entire nine months that Lily has been pregnant, I joked that I wanted to call one of them Fleamont after my dad and she really believed me. But I would never do that, I still have nightmares about the day that Sirius found out that my middle name was Fleamont. It was honestly the worst night of my life and I could not but either of my children through that, however funny it might have been._ _  
_ _  
_ _I made Sirius Godfather to both of them and even though I haven't exactly discussed this with Lily yet, Remus and Pete are going to be godfathers to our future kids. Though, I don't think that will be for a while. Although, I suppose that Remus is godfather to them by association since he and Sirius live together now. I'm sorry you couldn't come to the housewarming party but also quite pleased. Remus got very drunk (quite hard for a Werewolf I might add) and almost outed himself. Lily managed to cover for him and joke that he was coming out as gay again. I don't actually think many people believed him. Sirius howling every time he came into the room didn't help, either but because everyone was so drunk, I doubt they remember anything. The only people who weren't drunk were me, Lily, Frank and Alice._ _  
_ _  
_ _Alice had her baby this morning as well! Did you know? What are the chances of that! He's called Neville! Frank sent me a picture of him this morning and whilst he's cute, he has absolutely nothing on Harry and Lydia. Don't tell Frank I said that, though. He's now a scary Auror and could definitely kill me quickly and without anyone noticing._ _  
_ _  
_ _Lily and Alice are already planing one million and one play dates and joint Birthday parties which is where I ask you this question - what in the name of Merlin are playdates?! Do I have to be in attendance? What do I do? I've read every single book about parenting (even the Muggle ones!) and I still have no clue what what the point of play dates are. I mean...they're kids...they won't remember anything, will they?_ _  
_ _  
_ _Anyway, I really should go now. Lily said I shouldn't write you a letter the length of Hogwarts: A History but it's really hard not to. The actual point of this letter was to ask you to come and visit us and now that I'm reading back over everything, I realise that I might have spiralled a bit and now I know how hard you must have found reading my Transfiguration essays when I went off on one about the theory of Vanishing Spells._ _  
_ _  
_ _Lily says hi and also apologises for whatever I wrote in this letter,_ _  
_ _  
_ _James, your favourite ever student._ _  
_   
(Ever.)”

 

“‘ _Lily and Alice are already planing one million and one play dates and joint Birthday parties’”_ Lydia read out loud, “imagine that...”

“Fred and George are mentioned,” Harry said, quietly, “how weird,”

“They were gonna have more kids,” Lydia whispered, “How mad would it be if there was more of us,”

“We could have been like the Weasleys,” Harry laughed.

“It’s nice to know that he had no idea what he was doing,” Lydia said, “makes me feel better about not knowing what I’m doing with Teddy half the time,”

Hardy smiled at her, “you’re doing all right though,”

“It just makes me hate the Dursleys,” she said, “I mean...you don’t realise how much they need you. He can’t do anything on his own! They need you for _everything,_ H, and they just left us in a cupboard under the stairs!”

“I know,” Harry said, quietly, “I don’t understand how they could treat us like that,”

“Teddy calls us Aunt and Uncle. Which is fine, because we’re not trying to replace Remus and Tonks but...” she trailed off and shook her head, “Just the words Aunt and Uncle makes me want to vomit. Every time he shouts me...”

“You’re not Aunt Petunia, Lydia,” Harry said, firmly, “and you know that,”

Lydia nodded, “I know,” she paused for a moment, “I want to go and see them,”

“See who?” Harry asked.

“The Dursleys,” Lydia said.

He stared at her as though she had gone mad.

“Lyds, that’s a _really_ bad idea,”

“Harry, I need to. I need closure. I just want to know why,” she said, “you don’t need to come with me, if you don’t want to,”

They did not mention the Dursleys again and instead joined the others in the Hall. Since they had taken in Teddy, Lydia had become quite obsessed with the Dursleys after months of barely thinking about them. As she ate her food, she looked over at where Teddy was sat on Daphne’s knee and wondered what would have happened if a baby with blue hair had been dropped onto the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I tried to make this as least depressing as possible, but I don’t know if that actually worked. 
> 
> Hope you’re still enjoying! 
> 
> -E.


	50. Perfectly Normal, Thank-You Very Much

“So, me and Draco are together,” Harry said, casually. 

“I know,” Lydia said. He turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “What? You've never been the master of subtlety,”

In attempt to get Teddy out of the flat, Lydia had come to watch the Hogwarts team train for their final match against Ilvermorny whilst George was at work. Harry had been thoroughly putout when he told her that Ilvermorny had gotten through to the final a week after Hogwarts had managed to beat Koldovstoretz. Quidditch was possibly the only thing that could have made Lydia stay at Hogwarts, and as she watched Ginny, Zabini and the new chaser, Lucy Dravis, pass the Quaffle to each other above her head, she wished that she was with them. Teddy had become very distracted by sight of the Quidditch team and was staring up at them, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“You could have at least pretended to be surprised,” he muttered, folding his arms. 

“I could have done, but I didn't,” Lydia said, “do you remember the tie incident on the Astronomy Tower?”

“Fucking ties...” Harry muttered, covering Teddy’s ears.

Lydia sniggered, “I’m happy you’re happy, Harry,” 

“I think I am actually happy,” he said, as though it was something unbelievable, “are you happy?”

Lydia looked down at Teddy in her lap and thought about how they finally had a date for the wedding, “You know what, I think I might be. Life isn't perfect but we’re alive, aren't we? Who'd have thought that we’d make it to our eighteenth birthday?” 

“Not me, that's for sure,” Harry said, eyeing his team, “I think Ron might have fallen asleep...”

Lydia glanced over at the goal posts and sniggered, “he’s definitely asleep - hey, here's Draco,”

“Oh, hello, Lydia, I didn't know you were here today,” he said, walking over to them. 

“Needed to get Teddy out of the flat,” she said, “Say ‘hello Draco’, Teddy,” 

Teddy finally tore his eyes away from the Quidditch pitch and looked over at Draco. He cocked his head to the side slightly and then his hair turned the same platinum blond as Draco. Lydia laughed at the look on Draco’s face and then laughed even harder when Teddy raised his arms up towards Draco. 

“Dray!”

“That means he wants you to hold him,” Lydia said, holding him towards Draco. 

“Oh, uh, no, I can't hold-”

“Dray!” Teddy shouted. 

“Come on!” Lydia encouraged, “he's going to start crying in a minute, just hold him!” 

Looking as though he would rather hold one of Hagrid's old Blast - Ended Skrewts than a baby, Draco took Teddy in his hands. At first, he held him quite far away from his body, but as the Quidditch practice wore on and Harry actually joined his team in the air, Draco began to hold him like any normal person would. Deep down, Lydia felt as though his reluctance to hold Teddy might have been the product of the lack of affection he received as a child. Maybe she was reading too deeply into things, but Lucius Malfoy had never seemed the affectionate type and Narcissa Malfoy seemed to care more about how the rest of the Wizarding World perceived them than anything else. 

“So, does everyone know about you and Harry?” Lydia asked.

“No,” he said, “All the eighth years do and some of the seventh years. We’re not going to be professing our undying love for each other in the middle of breakfast any time soon,”

“How did Ron and Hermione react to it?” Lydia asked, somewhat hesitantly. She still remembered how they reacted at Shell Cottage.

Draco looked as though he was thinking the same thing and did not reply straight away.

“We only told them this morning,” he said, speaking slowly, “Hermione was supportive straight away and then...” He laughed, “Ron already knew,”

“What?” Lydia asked, “How?” 

“He said he realised when Harry was acting weird and...sneaking off,” he smirked, “I told him he was being too obvious,” 

“He isn't very subtle,” said Lydia, smiling slightly, “I'm thrilled though, it means that I now know two couples who can babysit Teddy,” 

“I wouldn't get your hopes up,” Draco said quickly. 

“I think Teddy might be a bit fond of you,” 

Perhaps ‘a bit fond’ was an understatement for Teddy was curled up against his chest, snoring ever so slightly. Lydia smiled at the sight of the two of them. This was not at all how Lydia would have thought she would spend her time with Draco Malfoy, but she was not going to start complaining about it anytime soon. Besides, Teddy was far too comfortable to be moved by anyone and Lydia knew better than to disturb him when he was in such a deep sleep. 

As cute as it might have been, Teddy falling into such a deep sleep would not help Lydia and George that night. He was running ahead of Lydia and Harry and was far more energetic than he had been when they first arrived at Hogwarts. Usually, Lydia would not have minded, but she was opening the shop up in the morning and would like to be able to do so after a full eight hours of sleep. In saying that, however, she really could not remember the last time that she had had a full eight hours of sleep. 

“Miss Potter! Miss Potter!” 

Lydia turned around and immediately regretted is a Adeline Scrimgeour came hurrying down the marble staircase towards her. Without even realising what she was doing, Lydia had scooped Teddy back up in her arms and was holding him away from her, as though she might try and arrest him. 

“This should be fun,” Harry muttered. 

“Miss Potter, I wanted to speak to you at the memorial but I couldn't quite catch you,” Adeline said, slightly out of breath.

“I did that on purpose,” Lydia said. 

“Yes, well, I just - I just wanted to apologise,” Adeline said, as though the words she was saying were physically hurting her, “For my treatment of you,”

“You want to  _ apologise _ ?” Lydia asked, not quite believing what she was hearing. 

“Yes,” Adeline said, “I realise now that the trial was driven by my own grief. I never knew who killed my Uncle, and it's been eating me up inside since the day he died. And I knew that you never had anything to do that,” 

“Right,” Lydia said, awkwardly, “Well, thank-you, Professor,”

Adeline nodded and then turned to Harry, “Your last essay was very impressive, Mr Potter, well done. Full marks,”

“Oh, thanks...” 

She looked as though she was going to say something else, but then walked away from them. Lydia stared at her for a while before turning back to Harry, who looked as though he was on the verge laughter. 

“That was weird,” Lydia said, sighing and putting Teddy into his pram, “Well, I better get going,” 

“Wait, before you do...have you thought more about the Dursleys?” Harry asked. 

Lydia froze in the act of making sure that Teddy was sat safely, “Um, yes. I really want to go,” 

“I’ll come with you-”

“You don't have to,” Lydia said, quickly, “George will come with me,” 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, thank Merlin, because I really,  _ really  _ did not want to go,”

“I’ll let you know when I do go,” she promised, “I'm sure it’ll end in me and Uncle Vernon arguing and Aunt Petunia crying,” 

“Just do me a favour and tell Uncle Vernon that I have a boyfriend. I want to know his reaction,” 

\---

George was very adamant of the fact that he thought going back to Privet Drive was a bad idea. Lydia also thought that it was a bad idea, but every time she looked at Teddy, she could not wrap her head around how anyone could treat a child like they did. This did not change the fact that she knew it would probably backfire spectacularly, but she would count it as a victory if she got through it without a panic attack. She would count anything as a victory if she got through it without a panic attack. 

Lydia glanced at herself in the mirror and felt as though she was ten years old again and trying to make sure that Aunt Petunia wouldn't have something horrible to say about her appearance. The most common insult was that the scar on her face was not ‘lady like’ and her hand immediately went to the newer one on her neck. She did not like to think of what Aunt Petunia would say when she saw that. It was only when George walked into the room with Teddy that she remembered that what Aunt Petunia said did not matter anymore. That did not stop her from wearing robes that covered most of the scar. 

“Wearing robes is a bad idea,” Lydia said to George, her eyes widened in fear, “You don't know what they're like-”

“Stop,” he said, softly, “you can wear whatever you want. You live in the Wizarding World,” 

“The neighbours-”

“Can mind their own business,” George interjected, “Seriously, Lydia, they don't have any power over you anymore,”

“Yeah, yeah, no, you're right,” she muttered, “Is Teddy ready?” 

“Blue hair and all,” 

“Oh, no,” Lydia whispered, “his hair! Oh, no! No, no!” 

“Um, have you only just noticed-”

“No, it's not that! It's just...” She groaned and put her head in her hands, “They don't like  _ anything  _ out of the normal! You have one ear! Teddy has blue hair! This is going to be a disaster!”

“My favourite types of days out are the ones that could be a disaster,” George said, shrugging. When he saw that this did not make her feel better he sighed and wrapped his arms around her, “listen, we don't have to go if you don't-”

“No, I want to go,” Lydia muttered, wiping her eyes, “I need to do this,” 

“Ok,” he said, “Then we’ll go,” 

It was only when they Apparated to Little Whinging that Lydia realised she probably should have called ahead. There was every chance that they might not be in,or moved house or they might just not let them in. Although, Lydia was not sure that Uncle Vernon would want to start an argument. That would just bring them unwanted attention. 

Lydia looked around. Nothing had changed about Little Whinging. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised that it was exactly as they had left it. Maybe it was because she wasn’t the same Lydia as she was when she had left it. As they walked to Privet Drive, memories that Lydia would rather forget floated to the forefront of her mind. They passed the park where Aunt Petunia had once shouted at her for asking a perfectly innocent question; they passed a shop where they bought Teddy some sweets and Lydia couldn't not remember why she had such bad memories of the place and the smiling lady behind the counter. Then she remembered that when they were ten years old, months before they discovered the Wizarding World existed, Uncle Vernon had brought the car to a screeching halt and forced them both out for speaking too loudly, despite the fact that Dudley had been shouting for the entire car ride. The lady in the shop had given them both a free bag of sweets each, and Lydia wondered why she had never tried to help them. It had taken them an hour to walk home and their feet were still aching for three days afterwards because their shoes did not fit properly. 

The street sign bearing the words, ‘Privet Drive,’ came into view and Lydia gripped onto George’s arm, suddenly feeling dizzy. She remembered how she had sat beneath this sign with Harry in the summer after fourth years, sobbing because she could not get the image of Cedric’s dead body out of her head. The Dursleys walked past them after going for a drink in the local pub and had acted as though they had not seen their distraught niece and nephew, sobbing about how they had seen a classmate and friend killed in front of them. The memory brought a fresh burst of anger out of Lydia and the entire thing seemed so unreal. She could not believe that they had ever lived lived like that. That  _ anyone  _ could ever live like that. 

“Hey, we really don't have to do this,” George whispered to her. 

“No, we need to,” Lydia said, straightening up, “and number twelve is staring at us,”

“Does he always like he's smelling shit?” George asked. 

“Only when he's looking at me and Harry,” Lydia sighed, “come on, I want to get this over and done with,” 

Lydia lead the way to number four, feeling exactly as she had done when she had walked to her death. The curtains of the living room were open, and she glanced in. The three Dursleys were sat together in the way that she always did. Heart beating out of control, Lydia forced herself to walk up the path and a shaking hand to knock on the door. She glanced over at George who just shrugged his shoulders slight, as if to say, “well, if you have to,”

“Pull yourself together, Potter,” she muttered, “you’ve literally died,” And she knocked on the door. 

It felt as though an entire year had passed by the time door was opened, revealing Vernon Durlsey. His eyes went to Teddy and then to George, before finally coming to rest on Lydia. His beady eyes went as wide as they could and he turned a shade of purple that Lydia associated with being shouted at for four hours straight, and she actually felt herself shrink into herself. George gently put his hand on the small of the back. 

“We can go,” he breathed in her ear. 

Lydia shook her head and then cleared her throat, “Hi, Uncle Vernon. Can - can we come in? Sorry. I know I should have called a head but I don't have a p-phone,” 

He stared at her as though he couldn't quite believe that she was there and then wordlessly stepped to the side. Lydia took this as an invitation to come in and stepped over the threshold. She heard George say hello to Uncle Vernon, but he got no response. 

“Vernon, who is it?” came Aunt Petunia’s voice from the living room. 

He did not reply. None of them said anything. Lydia just bent down and took Teddy out of his pram. George stood next to Uncle Vernon, looking at Lydia with his eyebrows raised. Finally, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat and walked back into the living room. 

“This is going to be fun,” George muttered, “After you, m’dear,” 

“I'm counting on Teddy to cause a tantrum,” Lydia whispered. 

“You know he won't,”

Aunt Petunia screamed at the sight of Lydia and Dudley toppled off his chair. Lydia hovered awkwardly in the doorway, glancing around the room. The room looked the exact same as it had done when she had left it last. The only sign that any time had passed was the pictures on the walls, showing an older Dudley. As always, there was no sign that Lydia or Harry had ever existed in this house, and Lydia was not sure why it stung slightly. She had not expected them to miss her, but there was a strange, tiny sliver of hope that made her think that  _ somehow  _ they might have changed. 

“Hello,” Lydia said, deciding that she was the only one who would be able to break the silence, “Sorry to stop in on you unannounced but...I didn't think you'd be thrilled to see me,” 

“I'm George,” said George, brightly. “Lydia's fiancé and-”

“Fiancé?” Uncle Vernon said. 

“Yeah, and this is our son, Teddy,” Lydia said, holding him up slightly. 

“Not even married,” Petunia muttered, “and clearly can't look after that child. Look at the state of him! His hair-”

“Look at the state of  _ him _ ?” Lydia snapped, “Do you remember what me and Harry looked like when we lived here?”

“You didn't have blue hair!” Petunia said in a shrill voice, “we gave you food and clothes and-”

“You gave us the scraps that you lot didn't want to eat and clothes that Dudley had grown out of! Do you know how horrible it is to go to school and get laughed at by everyone else because you're wearing boys clothes? You were never parents to us-”

“Because we aren't your parents!” Vernon said in his most dangerous voice, “Your parents are dead!”

“Yes, I'm quite aware of that, thank-you,” Lydia hissed. 

“Why you think we would care about you or your freak of family, I don’t know!” Vernon said, rolling her eyes. 

“Excuse me, we’re perfectly normal, thank-you very much!” Lydia said. 

Dudley cleared his throat and Lydia almost jumped. She had completely forgotten that he was there. “S-so, that baby...Teddy, how old is he?” 

“He's a year old,” Lydia said, “His, uh, his parents died in the war and-”

“The Wizarding war?” 

Lydia nodded. 

“Harry,” Dudley said, “is he - is he alive?” 

“Yes,” Lydia sad, “He survived. There was a big battle at the end. Fifty people died but I guess we got lucky,” 

“Fifty of your kind died?” Vernon asked. 

Lydia clenched her jaw at the term “your kind,” but nodded anyway, “Yes.” 

“Good. The less there are of you, the better,” he said, indifferently. 

“My twin brother died in that Battle,” George said, quietly. 

Vernon looked affronted but did not say anything. Dudley was frowning at them, as though he wasn't sure whether they were really there or not. Petunia’s eyes flickered between Lydia and Vernon, her lips pursed. Not for the first time, Lydia wondered if she ever thought about her sister, or if she had just blocked out any memory of Lily Evans. 

“So, that's what you've been doing, eh? Playing the hero?” Vernon said as though the whole thing was a joke.

Lydia held Teddy closer to her and willed herself not to cry. After all, she had been the one who had wanted to come and see them. 

“No, I fought in a war and then died,” she said, bluntly. 

“You did what?” Petunia asked, her voice shaking slightly. 

“Died,” Lydia repeated. She pulled her robes away from her neck, revealing the rest of her scar, “Lord Voldemort, the man who killed my parents, he killed me. But I came back,” 

“You can't come back from the-” Vernon began. 

“It's old mag-”

“DON’T SAY THAT WORD!” Vernon roared. Lydia flinched slightly - she no longer seemed to be able to endure Vernon and his shouting, “I WILL NOT PUT UP WITH YOUR ABNORMALITY IN THIS HOUSE! YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE WITH YOUR WEIRD ONE EARED FIANCÉ-”

“Was waiting for that to be mentioned,” George muttered, rubbing the side of his head. 

“-AND YOUR FREAK OF A SON AND-”

“Don't you dare!” Lydia yelled, tears springing to her eyes, “Don't you dare say call Teddy a freak! Do you know what that does to a child?”

“I don't want to hear your sob story,” Uncle Vernon said, dismissively. 

“Oh, you are a massive sack of shit, aren't you?” Lydia said, “You really are just the biggest knob head in the world and I've met the Dark Lord,” she laughed and shook her head, “you know, I was never gave much thought to the way you treated us until Teddy came along. And now that he's here I just...why did you treat us that way?” 

“We were unprepared for two more children,” Petunia said, talking very quietly, “We already had Dudley-”

“Unprepared?” Lydia asked, “Do you not think my mum and dad were unprepared? Do you not think  _ we  _ were unprepared? Being unprepared is one thing, abuse is quite another-”

“Don't be so over dramatic!” Vernon scoffed, “We never abused you,” 

“We weren't allowed to ask questions. We didn't know anything about our parents until we were eleven, didn't even know that they looked like! We were squashed in a cupboard under the stairs. We were never allowed to eat with you. You never acknowledged our birthdays. You ignored us on Christmas,” Lydia reeled off, “Do you remember when you all went out for a nice dinner and you left me and Harry in the car with one packet of crisps between the two of us? When we were six? Do you remember when you didn't let us send letters to our friends? When we had to be  _ rescued  _ from this damn house by our friends who definitely weren't old enough to fly halfway up the country on their own. Or have you had the privilege of forgetting all that? Because I haven't forgotten a damn thing, and neither has Harry. I'm terrified of small spaces because of you. The first time I went to George's house, I panicked every time Mr and Mrs Weasley came into the room, because I just assumed they were going to shout at me for just existing.

“Do you know what upsets me the most, though? Teddy calls me and George Aunt and Uncle, and every single time he does that, my entire body goes cold because I'm terrified of turning into you two,”

Even Vernon didn't seem to have a reply to that. George rubbed her back as she tried to regulate her breathing. Teddy crawled off Lydia's knee and sat himself between her and George, still eating his sweets. Petunia let out a small sob and Lydia wanted nothing more than to lob something at her head. 

“Do you u-understand what it's like to have to raise your dead sister’s children?” Petunia asked, “T-to see her in their eyes every single time you look at them?” 

“Any decent person would raise their dead sister’s children with as much love as they raise their own,” Lydia said, “you can't use my mum as an excuse,”

“It's hard,” Petunia whispered, “It's hard to know that such a fantastical world exists and you cannot be a part of it. When she went to that school...I was so young, so, so young...and she lived a life that I never could,” 

“Sorry,” George said, “Sorry, are you saying that you were jealous of her?” 

“I might have been, at some point,” Petunia said, shrugging her shoulders delicately, “She would come home during the holidays with all these stories...spells, potions...” She drew a great, shuddering breath, “and then I had you and your brother...and you were the exact same. The  _ exact  _ same,” 

Lydia narrowed her eyes at her, “Do you think my mother always enjoyed being in the Wizarding World? Do you know people of her blood status were targeted? And are still targeted today?”

Petunia muttered something underneath her breath, but Lydia could not bring herself to care about what on earth she could be saying to defend herself.

“Do you think she enjoyed someone who she thought was her best friend go to to the other side? The side who were hellbent on getting rid of people like her? Do you think she enjoyed being told she had to go into hiding because the Dark Lord was going after her two children? Do you think she enjoyed hearing her husband being murdered?” Lydia snapped, “if you even had a shred of decency, you would put every negative feeling you had about your sister behind you and look after her children! Her children who were orphans before they even knew what the word meant,” 

“The two of you were often rude and-” Vernon began but Lydia quickly cut across him, not wanting to hear him defend the indefensible.

“Don't take this out on us,” she said, “Christ, do you ever think we might have been rude because of all the crap we were dealing with? Did you ever get letters from Hogwarts, telling you what we'd done?” 

“We threw them into the fire,” Vernon said.

“Why doesn't that surprise me,” George snapped, not at all sounding like himself, “Do you actually know anything that happened whilst Lydia and Harry were in school? Do you know about the Philosopher's Stone? Or the Chamber of Secrets? What about how they fought off hundreds of Dementors when they were thirteen? Or when they saw a classmate be murdered in front of them?”

“Cedric,” Dudley said, quietly, “You're talking about Cedric. I heard them talking about it, once,”

“What about Umbridge?” George asked, completely disregarding Dudley, “did you know that your niece and nephew had words carved into their hands?” 

“They - what?” Petunia asked.

Lydia held up her left hand. The words  _ I must not tell lies  _ were still scratched there and Lydia was starting to think that they would never go away. 

“That was for telling the truth,” Lydia said, “That same year, we watched our godfather be murdered in front of us. And do you remember the first day of the holidays, Vernon? You threw a book at me and Harry because we were ‘talking too loudly,’. Imagine having one of the worst school years of your life, and then coming to the place you have to call home and dealing with that,” 

“The fact that we took you in-”

“Is doing the bare minimum,” Lydia said, “the only thing that me and Harry ever wanted is parents. Never quite got there though, did we? We could have done though, if you lot weren't so...Dursley-ish,”

“Ah, I see, so we’re the reason for all your problems?” Vernon said. 

“You didn’t bloody help us though, did you? How often did you ignore us when we were so obviously traumatised?” She sighed and shook her head, “you know what, I don’t even know why I’m here. Part of me hoped that maybe you weren’t such horrible people, but I guess I was wrong,”

She stood up, taking Teddy with her. George very quickly jumped up after her, his arms folded and looked thoroughly pissed off. 

“We’re getting married next year,” Lydia said, “and I have invitation for you but I guess you’re probably not come but...” she took her wand out of her pocket and flicked her wand (the Dursley’s all flinched as she did so) and three invitations landed on the coffee table. “If you want to come then...just let us know,”

“Why on earth would we want to come to your wedding?” Vernon snarled. 

“I don’t know,” Lydia said, truthfully, “I thought you might like to see Harry, maybe even meet his boyfriend,” 

“His b-boyfriend?” Vernon stuttered, looking as though he had just received the worst news in his life. 

Lydia smirked, “Yes. His boyfriend is also a Wizard. Terrifying,”

“Fucking Poof,” Vernon muttered. 

Anger rushed through Lydia again, “Say that again, I dare you,”

“You heard what I said,” he hissed, “he’s a Poof and a-“

Whatever else Harry was, they never found out. Before Lydia could even think of an insult to throw Vernon’s way, George had crossed the room and punched him in the face. Petunia screamed, Teddy laughed as though it was the funniest thing he had ever seen and Lydia was quite sure she had never loved George as much as she did in that moment. 

“I’ll get you for that,” Vernon spat. 

“See my freak of a son over there?” George hissed, “he’s a werewolf. Do you really want to try that?”

“Alright,” Lydia said, having to speak very loudly over Teddy who was still giggling, “we’re going. This has been a disaster,” She grabbed George’s hand and dragged him out of the room, pointing her wand at Teddy’s pram so that it would follow them out the house before putting Teddy in it.

They hurried down Privet Drive, trying to get as much distance between themselves and number four as possible. George still looked mutinous and Teddy was still giggling slightly. Lydia was quite sure that she had not been so happy to see someone punched in the face since Hermione had slapped Draco. Even though she liked Draco now, the memory still made her ridiculously happy. 

“Teddy’s a half Werewolf,” Lydia said to George, grinning slightly. 

“I know, but they don’t need to know that,” George muttered. He glanced down at his hand, “I shouldn’t have punched him, should I?”

“I thought punching him was being kind,” Lydia shrugged. 

“I wasn’t going to but he’s such a-“

“Lydia!” 

She turned around to find Dudley hurrying down the street towards them. George raised his fist again but Lydia quickly forced it down; the last time she had seen Dudley, he hadn’t been as awful as she had known him to be. 

“Are you lost?” Lydia asked. 

“No, no. Need to be quick though, I told dad I was going to punch him,” he said, nodding at George. “I’m not though! Um, I just wanted to tell you that I’m gonna come to the wedding,” 

Lydia raised her eyebrows and looked at George who was looking very confused. This was not at all how she thought this conversation was going to go.

“Right...” Lydia said, “Well, it’s going to be quite...magical,”

Dudley smiled, “I know. I’ve got a girlfriend and she’s a witch so...” 

“She’s a...Merlin, Dudley. That’s...that’s..” Lydia said, “weird,” 

Dudley nodded, “I know. She’s called Alice. I’ll tell her about it,” 

“Hey, what's her last name?” George asked, “we might know her,” 

“Nah, you won’t. She didn’t go to your school,” he smiled awkwardly at them both, “Well, I better get going. Tell - tell Harry I said hello,” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll see you later, Dudley,” 

He smiled at them again, waved at Teddy slightly and then walked away. They would probably never be the best of friends, but it was something. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50th chapter! The fact that I’ve stuck to this is amazing and I’m very proud of myself. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading! This is possibly one of my favourite chapters, just because someone finally punched Vernon Dursley. The fact that no one ever did in the books amazes me.
> 
> Also, I have a wedding this weekend so I don’t think I’m going to be able to update, but we’ll get there eventually.
> 
> -E.


	51. Onwards and Upwards, Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// 
> 
> Suicide.

“Ready to go, Georgie?” Lydia called, trying to convince Teddy to eat his dinner, “Georgie? George!”

She frowned when he still didn't answer and glanced around the kitchen door, expecting to see him in the living room but he wasn't there. She shouted him again and still didn't get a reply. Making sure that Teddy was safe in his high chair and stopping Fabio from rolling off the kitchen table for the thirteenth time that afternoon, she walked through the living room and out into the hall and finally found George. He was stood staring at the closed door of Fred's bedroom. His arms were tightly folded and he was staring at it as though it was a mirage.

“George,” Lydia said again, “it's the Quidditch final today, remember? Hogwarts are playing Ilvermorny. We need to go,”

“Yeah,” he said, “Quidditch final,”

He still did not move and Lydia bit her lip, unsure of what to do. More and more, Lydia had caught him staring at Fred's room since the anniversary of the Battle. She didn't really want to interrupt them but they were already running late. As far as she was aware, he still hadn't gone into the room and part of Lydia wanted him to go in. Perhaps it would allow him to work through everything in a healthier way.

“Come on,” Lydia said, gently taking his hand, “we’re already late,”

“Yeah,” he repeated.

When they walked back into the kitchen, George immediately sat down at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands. Lydia brushed her hand over his head as she walked past him and over to Teddy, who had finally decided to eat his dinner. Still glancing over at George, she flicked her wand and cleared all the mess off the table. She scooped Fabio off the table and placed him on her shoulder. George still hadn't moved from when Lydia had put Teddy in his pram.

“George,” Lydia said, glancing down at her watch, “come on,”

He stood up and smiled at her. Lydia almost jerked away from him; he was suddenly beaming and looked as though he had been this happy all morning. He kissed her on the forehead and then took the pram out of her hands, pushing it towards the front door.

“Are you coming or what, love?” George called, “we're going to be late,”

“Coming,” Lydia called.

Hermione and Neville were waiting for them in the Entrance Hall and George was perfectly happy when he was saying hello to them. His sudden change unnerved Lydia slightly and she hid her face by turning around to pick Teddy up out of his pram. Hermione came up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder.

“You OK?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Lydia said, straightening up and smiling, “Why? Should I not be?”

Hermione gave her a searching look and then smiled, “Excited for today?”

“Can't wait,” Lydia replied, “just wish that I was playing. How's Harry and Ron?”

“Harry is Harry and Ron is Ron,” Hermione shrugged, “take from that what you will,”

Lydia often felt that all important Quidditch games went slowly, and this one was no different. Both teams had scored two each and now no one seemed to be able to get close to the goal posts. Lydia felt as though there were a fair few moments when both teams could have scored, and the fact that she couldn’t do anything about it was infuriating her. It was also infuriating poor Draco who was sat next to her.

“Potter, if you don't stop punching me in the arm...” Draco hissed at her.

“Sorry!” She moaned, jumping up and down whilst punching him in the arm, “I've just realised that I don't actually know what to do with my arms when I'm not holding Teddy!”

Draco screamed and punched Lydia in the arm. She turned to shout at him for hitting her, and then realised that Harry and Matthew Derick were neck and neck, racing for the Snitch. Lydia grabbed the back of George's jacket and spun him around, pointing ahead.

“Nope, still can't watch,” he said, spinning back around.

There was a moment in which Lydia could not see where the Snitch had gone and a hush seemed to fall over the stadium. There was a dull thud as the two of them hit the Quidditch pitch. Lydia screamed and leant over the stands, trying to see if Harry was okay. Then, Harry stood up and held the Snitch above his head and the sound that he was met with was so loud, that Lydia was surprised he wasn't thrown off his feet by the sheer force of it alone.

Lydia grabbed Draco and pulled him onto the pitch, shouting for the others to follow them. The rest of the Quidditch team had formed such a tight circle around them that it actually took them awhile to get to Harry, who was beaming more than Lydia had ever seen him. Harry shoved Derick out of the way and grabbed Draco, kissing him in front of everyone. There were some gasps and a flurry of camera flashes as the Daily Prophet reporters scrambled to get the best pictures that they could for the next days front page.

Lydia grinned at them and went to hug Ron, who looked like he would be more than happy to fall asleep there and then. Ginny ran over to her, squealing about how happy she was that they had won and how much she had missed her. As Lydia hugged her, she realised that she was her brother’s ex-girlfriend and wondered if this was strange. Although, Harry was probably too preoccupied with Draco to care about anything that was going on around him.

George wandered over to them, grinning broadly and holding a beaming Teddy, “I think this one likes Quidditch,”

“Well, with a family like ours, he's not really got a choice, has he?” Lydia said, “Wasn't there a time when the Gryffindor Quidditch team was sixty percent Weasley?”

“Britain is probably sixty percent Weasley at this point,” George sighed, “We’re everywhere,”

Harry hurried over to them and was actually jumping up and down like a child on Christmas morning. Lydia hugged him whilst shouting about how proud she was of him. Two Daily Prophet reporters ran over to them and were shouting questions at them, but Lydia had developed quite a knack for ignoring reporters. Especially the ones who she knew for a fact had written horrible things about her and Harry over the years.

“Hey, George, why are your knuckles bruised?” Ginny asked.

Lydia turned around, smiling slightly, “we went to see the Dursleys. George punched Vernon,”

At once, Harry burst into laughter and then hugged George, “I'm so happy you're going to be my brother-in-law!”

“Are you not going to get in trouble?” Ginny asked, smirking slightly.

“No, he'll be fine,” Lydia said, “I don't think Vernon would want to admit that someone punched him. Also, George told him that Teddy is a Werewolf,”

“Not technically a lie,” George said, “not technically true,”

They stayed at Hogwarts for a while after the trophy ceremony. Lydia sat with Daphne and Hermione in the common room, bouncing Teddy on her knee. She felt as though the wedding and Teddy was the only thing that she ever spoke about anymore but she wasn't any place to complain. The only thing that Lydia was worried about was George. He had been fine since coming back from the Dursleys but now they were back at Hogwarts, he seemed to have retreated back into his shell. Whilst Daphne and Hermione got lost in a conversation about dresses, Lydia looked over the room at George. He was sat on the other side of the common room with Ginny, Luna and Neville. Anyone else would look at George and think that he was perfectly fine, but she could tell that he wasn't; his smile was strained and his laughter always stopped too soon

“Has George chose a best man yet?” Hermione asked.

Lydia sighed and shook her head, “No. It's the one part of the wedding that he won't talk about. He always thought that it was going to be Fred and...well, you know...”

“Will he not choose one of his other brothers?” Daphne asked.

“No,” Lydia said, “No, he loves them all but they're not Fred,”

“He’ll be fine,” Hermione said, gently, “You know he will,”

“He's not himself today,” Lydia said, sadly.

“We all have bad days,” Daphne said, “it's impossible not to have bad days after everything that happened,”

“Yeah...” Lydia said, letting Teddy crawl over to where George was.

“Does he ever talk about him?” Hermione asked.

“Not if he can avoid it. We spoke about him a little bit on their - on his birthday and then on the anniversary but apart from that, never,” Lydia said, keeping her voice down.

“He’ll talk when he's ready,” Daphne said, “Whenever that may be,”

“I just don't want him to be happy at the wedding,” Lydia said, “ _I_ want to be happy at the wedding,” She thought about telling them about Fred’s bedroom but then decided against it. She'd hate it if George was talking about her like this.

Hermione smiled at her, “You will be happy, I promise. Although, you won't be if you don't have a nice dress. We have a lot of shopping to do,”

“Merlin, did I tell you what Aunt Muriel said?” Lydia asked, suddenly remembered, “she said I had strangely shaped-”

“Oi, Lyds!” Ginny called across the room, “Come on, scouts want to see us,”

“Scouts? I don't even - I don't even play-”

“I know, you're just that good!” Ginny said, brightly, “come on!”

Ginny pulled her out of the common room and into the transfiguration classroom. When they walked in, it took Lydia a moment to recognise Hannah Frishely and Fletcher Cretenc the Quidditch scouts. They smiled warmly at them and Lydia had to force herself to smile back. As much as she thought about playing Quidditch professionally, she had long since accepted that maybe it would never happen because she hadn't played since she had left school. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that she didn't even know where here broomstick was.

“We’re still interested in the two of you,” Hannah said, “And, Lydia, I know that you left school and we haven't seen you play for a while, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't be able to play. I think I can speak for Fletcher when I say that I am more than happy to have you both tryout,”

“Yes,” Ginny said, quickly, “I mean, I'm more than happy to,”

Fletcher smiled at her, “And, you, Lydia?” 

“O-oh, um..” She was at a loss for words, “I...I don't know,”

“We need an answer today, I'm afraid,” Hannah said.

“Right,” Lydia said, “Well, it's not that I don't want to but I have a son and-”

“We’re aware of your situation,” Hannah said, gently, “and being a fantastic mother and a fantastic Quidditch player can be done at the same time. Ask any member of the Holyhead Harpies. A lot of them do it,”

Lydia grinned, “Okay. I'll be there,”

“Harpies are on June fifth, and Puddlemere is on the seventh,” Fletcher said, “We’ll send you a confirmation letter. Don't be late,”

When Fletcher and Hannah had left the room, Lydia and Ginny turned to each other and started screaming. This was probably the best news that either of them had received in a long time and neither of them wasted anytime in telling the the others when they got back to the common room.

“Knew you'd end up doing it!” Harry yelled, hugging her.

“I thought they wanted to see you, too?” Lydia asked.

He shook his head, “It's not for me. I think I want to be an Auror,”

“Rather you than me,” she said.

The next morning, Lydia and George were awoken as they usually were by Teddy being generally loud. George managed to get up first and get Teddy. It took Lydia a few more minutes longer to get up and only did so because of the Daily Prophet owl pecking on the window. She shoved some money into the pouch on it's leg and dragged her feet over to the kitchen.

“Morning, Teddy,” she said, kissing him on the head, “oh, you have purple hair today,”

“I think that's code for ‘I want Fabio,’” George said, “he had blue hair when I went and got him up,”

“This Metamorphmagus thing is actually very convenient,” said Lydia, taking Fabio off George's shoulder and handing him to Teddy with a warning to be gentle with him.

“Until we lose him in a crowd - oh, Merlin,” George said, picking the Daily Prophet off the kitchen table, “have you seen this?”

Lydia looked over his shoulder at the front page that consisted of the picture of Harry and Draco kissing at the Quidditch match. Above it, was the headline that read:

**HARRY POTTER GAY? IN LOVE WITH DEATH EATER?**

“At least they're straight to the point,” Lydia muttered.

“That's so unfair! He was never really a Death Eater in the first place, was he?” George sighed. He shook his head, “anyway, I need to get to work. See you later,”

Lydia made herself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table, flicking to pages two and three to read whatever rubbish that had been written about Harry and Draco. Her eyes flickered to the by-line. Anger flared in her as she read the words, “ _by Rita Skeeter_ ,”. Lydia had no idea what idiot at the Ministry had allowed her to start writing for them again but she wouldn't mind hexing them.

“Teddy, when you got school, make sure you know how to hex people,” she said, absentmindedly, “but only so you can hex Rita Skeeter because she's probably written mean things about your Uncle Harry,”

_“Eighteen year old Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, is gay, it seems,_ the blindingly attractive Rita Skeeter writes, _and we all thought that it would be his dear sister who'd become the disgraceful one,”_ Lydia rolled her eyes and forced herself to keep on reading.

_“Now, of course, I have absolutely nothing against those of us who choose a different sort of lifestyle, but the Potters are, after all, the face of British Wizarding World- is Harry Potter really the person we want representing us to the Wizarding World at large?_

_And some might say that whatever Harry Potter does in the privacy of his own home is his business and his business only, but I struggle to believe how that is the case when he openly kisses his boyfriend at a Quidditch match that he knows a lot of people - particularly impressionable young people - were watching._

_Now, even I could give him a pass on this one, he was, after all, monumental in the way that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was rid of this world once and for all. My issue is with the fact that the boy he is kissing is none other than Death Eater Draco Malfoy!_

_Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, has just finished a stay in Azkaban. Malfoy senior, of course, is best known for his prejudiced against the Muggleborns among us (including Harry’s best friend, Hermione Granger). Perhaps even more disconcerting is the stories that we’ve heard about him during the second war. It is a well known fact that the Dark Lord himself used the Malfoy residence as headquarters and also a holding place for those who were opposed to the Dark Lord and his death eaters._

_The Potter themselves were also held there for a period of time during the war. Perhaps even worse, Lydia Potter’s fiance, George Weasley, was held and tortured there months. Which raises the question - how does she really feel about her brothers new relationship? Now, the last thing I want to do is put words into her mouth but if I was her, I would be pretty angry if I knew that my brother was all over the person who could have been responsible for the death of my fiancé._

_And, my dear readers, I know that you must be as curious as I am about the relationship between the two Potter siblings. Of course, there was a small blip in their relationship during their sixth year at Hogwarts but they seemingly came together after the heartbreaking death of their father and the war that they had to fight for. But what about now? We know that Lydia dropped out of Hogwarts early and I would not be surprised if we found out that it was because of Harry's new relationship with Draco Malfoy._

_Now, who is Draco Malfoy? Many people only know the name and not the person, but after some digging, I feel as though I know the person and I'm not too sure that I like him. Sorted into Slytherin along with Lydia Potter, many students of Hogwarts tell the stories of how rude, obnoxious and prejudiced he was. He was always quick to insult his now-boyfriend and even went as far to insult Ronald Weasley, who was also instrumental in the death of the Dark Lord, and his family with a Quidditch song that includes the lyrics, “_ Weasley was born in a bin,”. _If that is not enough to make your blood boil, then know this; Draco Malfoy attempted to kill Albus Dumbledore, but could not go through with it. Is there anything worse than a cowardly death eater?_

_Why the Boy who Lived would ever want to get involved with someone like Draco Malfoy, but I do hope that this isn't the end of Harry Potter,”_

Lydia rolled her eyes and shoved the paper away from her. How Rita Skeeter could make someone like Petunia Dursley look like an angel was beyond her, and also something that Skeeter would be proud of. Lydia could not imagine that anyone would read anything that Skeeter had written and actually believed what she was saying, and so she felt herself calm down.

When it got to a more reasonable time and Teddy was napping, Lydia spoke to Harry through the mirror - just to make sure that he wasn't freaking out about the article. He assured her over and over again that it had not bother him at all and that it had made absolutely no impact on Draco who was more than used to having people write horrible things about him and his family.

“Listen, I've got to go to class but honestly, Lyds, you don't need to worry about us,” he said.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, Rita Skeeter’s article was gone from Lydia's mind. It was only when she was sat on the ground entertaining Teddy and Fabio when there was a flurry of owls sat on the balcony. Frowning, she snatched all the letters of them and tore the first one open, groaning as she did so; they were her least favourite kinds of letters - the ones from readers of Rita Skeeter articles.

“Now, Teddy, here's a word of advice,” Lydia said, “when Rita Skeeter writes rude things about you and your family, her readers will _always_ send you letters giving you their opinions because they genuinely think that you care about their opinions. And when that happens, what you have to do is read them, laugh, and then burn them,”

Every single one of them was terrible. One lady sent her a particularly long letter about how she should be ashamed of herself for allowing her brother to not only be with another man, but also a _death eater._ Another person told her that she should count herself lucky that George still wants to marry here despite the fact that she was allowing someone like Draco Malfoy into her family. If Lydia was anything like Hermione, she would probably spend the rest of the day writing back to all of these people and putting them in her place, but Lydia was nothing like Hermione and would probably ignore them all and hope that people would get bored eventually.

That night, Lydia woke up from yet another nightmare. This one involved a grown up Teddy accusing her of being like the Dursleys. It was the first time she had ever had that nightmare and was in no rush to have it again. She slowly sat up in bed and looked over to George, but he was not there. Assuming that he was in the bathroom, Lydia got out of bed with the intention of going to make sure that Teddy was OK, though she never got there.

The door of Fred's bedroom was open slightly and Lydia froze outside of it, unsure of what to do. She walked in, slowly shutting the door behind her. The only thing that suggested that Fred had not been there for a while was the fact that everything was coated in a layer of dust. If it weren't for the dust, Lydia would have thought that he left the bedroom just moments ago; the bed was still unmade and the curtains were half drawn. Robes were spilling out of the wardrobe and there were still half finished plans for the shop scattered across the desk.

“George,” Lydia said, slowly, “what are you doing?”

He was stood by the window, pointing his wand at his head. Tears were streaming thick and fast down his face. He did not say anything and instead just shook his head, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

“Georgie,” she said, “come on. Put your wand down. Let's talk.”

“I can't,” he whispered, “I can't do this anymore. Every day-”

_“Expelliarmus!”_ Lydia yelled desperately, for she did not have a wand. To her surprise, however, George’s wand flew through the air and she quickly caught it, shoving it in her hair, as though this would stop him from getting to it.

“You shouldn't have done that,” he whispered, “you should have just let me do it,”

“Don't be a dick, George,” she said, speaking as gently as she could.

He shook his head and turned away from her, leaning against the windowsill. Lydia took a deep breath and quickly whipped the wand out of her hair and shoved it out f the door. At least then he would not know where it was. A few minutes later, he turned back around to face her, tears still streaming down his face. All she wanted to go and hug him, but she knew that that was probably the last thing that he wanted right now.

“I can't do this, anymore, Lydia,” George said, “Do you know how hard it is to look in the mirror every day and see the person you miss the most? Knowing that that's the closest thing that you'll ever get to seeing them in person again?”

“Love is stronger than death,” Lydia whispered.

George scoffed, “It's a nice sentiment but that's not going to bring him back though, is it?”

“I know,” Lydia said, sighing, “I know,”

“Where's my wand?” He asked.

“I don't have it,” she said quickly.

“Lydia, where's my wand?” He repeated.

She shrugged, “I don't know. You don't need it now,”

“Yes, I do,” he snapped, “I don't want to be here anymore,”

“Don't say that!” Lydia exclaimed, wiping her eyes, “D-don't!”

“What good am I doing here?” George asked, “Honestly, Lydia, tell me what good I'm doing here - I'm not running the shop properly, anymore!”

Lydia could not argue with that. One of the other employees had taken up most of George's duties along with Lydia helping when she could. Sometimes, Lydia had to take over when George was helping a customer because he was doing whatever the exact opposite of helping was.

“See?” he said, “you can't even-”

“You're a good dad to Teddy,” Lydia said, “You're better at calming him down when he's crying than I am. He always goes to you when he's upset because he knows that you'll cheer up. If you - if you did it, he'd probably never laugh again,”

“Don't be ridiculous, you're amazing with him,” George said.

“Because _you_ make me a better person, George,” she said, “ _you_ make me happy. Fucking hell, you do good every day just by being George Weasley!”

“You can do better than me,” George whispered, “you could find someone-”

“No, I couldn't,” Lydia said, “there's no one else I want to get married to. There's no one else I want to bring Teddy up with. Christ, George, you must know this,”

He stared at her for a while and then sank to the floor, his head hung. Lydia slowly walked over to him and sat next to him. Hesitantly, she took his hand and let him cry for a while whilst trying not to cry herself.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, finally.

“Don't apologise,” Lydia said.

“I just miss him,” George said, “and it's like...I don't even miss the past we had, I miss the future that we could have had. Sometimes, I’ll be doing something and I'll just think...Fred would love this but I'll never be able to tell him, you know? Like at the Quidditch final the other day, I wished that he could be there. I wish that he could meet Teddy, I wish that he could come to the wedding...I wish he could be my best man...I wish that I could just say hello, one last time...”

“You'll never get used to it, George, but you learn to live with it,” Lydia said, “you're the one who said you have to live _for_ him. But we have Teddy as well now, and we have to live for him, too,”

“You're right,”

“I actually usually am,” Lydia said.

“I love you,” George whispered.

“I love you, too,” she said, “Onwards and upwards, yeah?”

“Onwards and upwards,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!
> 
> -E.


	52. Mr and Mrs Weasley

It would be silly to say that everything was perfect, because it was not. Perhaps it never would be perfect, but Lydia had forced herself to put everything into perspective; there was no more Lord Voldemort, no more Horcruxes, no more suicide missions, no more war and that was everything that she had ever wanted. They had lost a lot, but as Lydia watched George with Teddy, she understood that they had gained even more.

Harry, Ron and Hermione graduated Hogwarts with good NEWT grades and began their lives. Ron and Hermione spent six weeks in Australia trying to find Mr and Mrs Granger before coming back home and starting again. Harry, Ron and Neville all began their training as Aurors and Hermione started at the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

“Of course I'm not _controlling_ them,” Hermione told Lydia, “I'm working to further the right of Werewolves and House Elves,” she sighed and shook her head, “the way some people I work with treat them is just awful!”

Draco was training to be a Healer at St Mungo's. Harry said that he was still feeling guilty about the war and was trying to put as much good into the world as possible. Lydia said that him saving their lives was probably enough to give him a pass.

“Well...yeah,” Harry said, “but I think he just wants to prove to people that although he's a Malfoy, he's not Lucius Malfoy,”

Lydia had also dedicated what little free time she had to try and convince Harry to meet up with Dudley. She had threatened to uninvite him to the wedding unless he said yes, because she didn't want the first time they met again to be at her wedding.

“You wouldn't uninvite me to the wedding,” Harry scoffed.

“Try me,” Lydia snapped.

“Who'd walk you down the aisle, then?” Harry asked, “You need me for that,”

Lydia's eyes swept the room, “Ron. Ron would walk me down the aisle,”

Harry glared at her, “You're not giving this up, are you?”

“No,”

Three months before the wedding, Harry finally agreed. Lydia knew that Dudley was one of the last people they wanted to see. They met in a pub that was as far away from Privet Drive as humanly possible. Draco booked the evening off work to come with them and Hermione offered to look after Teddy so that Lydia could drink herself through the awkwardness if she had to. For the entire journey there, Harry complained loudly and only shut up because Lydia said that she would buy his drinks all night if it meant that he wouldn't talk so much.

Dudley and Alice were already waiting for them in the pub, and both looked very awkward. Lydia confidently walked up to the table and froze before she got to them, realising that she wasn't actually sure how to greet them. This was only the second time that she was meeting Alice and she did not think that she and Dudley were at the hugging stage yet. Instead, she just awkwardly waved and then let George shake their hands. Draco seemed to be taking his cues from George and also shook their hands before they all turned to Harry, whose face was blank.

“Hi, Harry,” Dudley said.

Harry stared at him a bit longer and then nodded at him, “Alright, Big-D?”

Dudley sniggered, “I always hated that name,”

“Never stopped your mates from calling you that though, did you?” Harry asked, “Where are they now, anyway?”

“All gone to university up north. Apart from Piers,” He said, “he's working with me at dad's company,” the mention of Uncle Vernon seemed to completely change the mood and Lydia had to look away. Dudley seemed to have noticed this because then he cleared his throat and carried on, “This is my girlfriend. Alice,”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry said.

“Yeah, you too,”

“Uh, this is my boyfriend, Draco,”

Dudley looked over at Draco and frowned, “Draco Malfoy? I thought you hated him?”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Sorry,” Dudley said, quickly, “it's just...I used to hear you talk about him all the time with Lydia...”

“All the time?” Draco asked, sounding amused.

“It wasn't all the time...” Harry muttered.

“There was a point when you spoke about Draco more than I spoke about George. And that was before you were together,” Lydia shrugged.

“Who wants drinks?” Harry asked loudly, clapping his hands together.

The night was painfully awkward. It was hard to avoid talking about Privet Drive; it was the only thing that they had in common, and so a lot of attention was put on poor Alice who could do nothing but talk about herself. They did have a good time trying to sort Dudley into a Hogwarts house, and they eventually landed on Gryffindor. Though, Draco did make a good case for him being in Slytherin. They then had an even harder time trying to put him in an Ilvermorny house, despite none of them knowing much about the place. Lydia thought that he would be in Pukwudgie, but that was probably just because she liked saying the word.

“So, what is it that you lot do now?” Dudley asked.

“I'm a Healer at St Mungo’s,” Draco said, “well, training to be, anyway,”

“That's a Doctor,” Alice whispered.

“I'm training to be an Auror,” Harry said. “A police man,” he added to Dudley, “but that little bit more exciting,”

“I opened a joke shop with my brother,” George said, “so, I run that,”

“I play Quidditch for Puddlemere United,” Lydia said, “and I'm gonna be playing on the World Cup squad next year,”

“Quidditch is like your football, right?” Dudley asked.

Lydia nodded, “Yeah, but it's probably more like a mix of Basketball and Netball,”

And so talk turned to Quidditch. Dudley said it sounded dangerous and Harry assured him that it was, telling him all the injuries that he had sustained over to the years thanks to Quidditch from losing all the bones in his arm to falling off his broom. Dudley looked quite horrified but Lydia told him that she was of the firm belief that you hadn't really played a game of Quidditch unless you finished the match in a lot of pain.

“I broke both of my legs last week,” she shrugged, “but we won the game and that's all that matters,”

“I can't tell if you're joking or not,”

When they got home that evening, the mornings paper was on the table. Lydia had left the house in a hurry that morning and had not given the paper any attention but then she saw a massive picture of her face on the front and picked it up. Hermione walked into the kitchen just as Lydia picked the paper up and snatched it out of her hand, holding it above her head.

“Hey! That's not fair!” Lydia said, trying to jump up, “I'm not that tall!”

“Don't read it,” Hermione said, “it's Rita Skeeter. It's awful,”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “why does it matter anymore? She's never going to write anything nice about me,”

“No, Lydia, it's really cruel,” Hermione said, earnestly, “she doesn't just talk about you. She talks about everyone,”

“Just give me the paper, ‘Mione,” Lydia said.

Hermione groaned and handed it to her, “Don't get angry,”

Lydia didn't promise a thing and turned her attention to the Daily Prophet. It wasn't as though she hadn't been expecting Rita Skeeter to write something horrible about her. The day after the Hogwarts graduation, Rita Skeeter had started asking Harry and Draco very intrusive questions and so Lydia did what anyone would do and punched her in the face.

“ ** _Who is the true Lydia Potter?_**

_Saviour of the Wizarding World turned professional Quidditch player, Lydia Potter is the name on everyone's lips, writes Rita Skeeter, but who is the true girl beneath the scars and the Quidditch robes? Many of us think we know her, but the things that unearthed might just change your mind.”_

“This is the sort of thing that would give me some sort of existential crisis,” Lydia said.

“Don't read it then,” Hermione said, quickly.

Lydia completely ignored her and carried on reading.

“ _The first thing I did was look into Lydia's life before Hogwarts. She and her brother grew up in the muggle suburb Little Whinging with their Aunt and Uncle, who I managed to talk to. Vernon Durlsey, a perfectly respectable businessman said: “We give them all they needed growing up and treated us like with utmost disrespect,”_

_“Lydia came to visit us a while back with her Fiancé,” Petunia Dursley, sister of Lily Potter, told me, “and she was very rude the entire time. She turned up unannounced and then her Fiancée punched Vernon!”_

_Lydia Potter is engaged to George Weasley, who owns Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes, a joke shop situated in Diagon Alley. He opened the shop with his now deceased brother, Fred Weasley, after dropping out of school. Which leads me onto my next question: is George Weasley perhaps so heartbroken by the death of his twin that he's turned to violence as a coping mechanism? I spoke to a specialist at St Mungo's who is an expert on grief:_

_“Grief manifests itself differently in different people,” said the specialist who did not wish to be named, “This young man has gone through a massive blow. Not only was he tortured during the war, but his brother was then murdered. It would not at all be surprising to me if he took out his hatred towards the death eaters on innocent people,””_

Lydia stopped reading and looked up at Hermione, her mouth hanging open.

“She spoke to the _Durselys_?”

“I know,” Hermione said, sadly, “I’m quite sure she did something illegal to get them to talk,”

“Yeah...” Lydia said, she read over it again and scowled, “I can't believe they're making them out to be the victims! Did they forget about how they locked us in a cupboard under the stairs? How they ‘forgot’ to feed us sometimes? And - and, to go after George! To imply that he's violent! How does that make him look?”

Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears, “I - I know,”

Her hands were shaking so much that Lydia actually had to put the paper back on the table so that she could read it properly.

“ _The more I learn about Lydia Potter and the people she surrounds herself with, it's not wonder that she is the way the way she is. I spoke to some people who she went to school with, and every single one of them said that she was neither warm nor kind as people have said._

_“The only time I ever spoke to her was when she told me to F - off,” an unnamed source said, “and we were both in Slytherin! I remember she used to curse a kid called Orville Urquhart all the time,”_

_I tried to reach out to Orville Urquhart but he declined to speak to me. Could this be because he is too scared of what would happen if Lydia got angry again? Would she track him down and hex him like she spent so much of her school life doing?"_

“Track down Urquhart?” Lydia exclaimed, “why is she acting like we’re not friends? I don't need to track him down! I know where he lives!” She screwed the paper up and threw it in the bin, “You know what, you're right. I'm not reading it. It's a load of bullshit,”

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, “Its for the best, Lyds,”

“But please, tell me what she said,” Lydia said.

“She was horrible about Harry and Draco, but nothing that she hasn't already said. And she said...she said that the Department of Children and Families should come and take Teddy off you because George is ‘violent’ and you're a ‘Dark Witch,”

“She said-”

“They won't, though,” she said quickly, “the first thing I did when I got to work this morning was go and ask if they were going to investigate and they said they weren't. There aren't many people who believe what Rita Skeeter writes these day,”

“What else?” Lydia asked.

“You don't want to know,”

“Yes, I do,”

“She said that you're only playing Quidditch out of pity and that if you weren't a Potter you wouldn't be playing,” Hermione said. She paused for a moment and then said, “then she called you ugly,”

“She's the kind of person that makes me wish we never defeated Voldemort,”

“Don't say that,” Hermione said, sharply, “you know that nothing they wrote was true. George isn't violent, you're not a Dark Witch, Harry and Draco are very happy and you're only playing Quidditch because you're good at it. You're also not ugly and a very good mum to Teddy. You know that,”

Lydia nodded, “I know. I just...I wish people would leave me alone. I just want to play Quidditch and get married and not have to be The Girl who Lived anymore,”

“Well...there is a way to stop her,” Hermione said, quietly.

Lydia's head snapped up, “how?”

“I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you but...I got promoted to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement this morning,” Hermione told her, “and...well, my job will be to assign investigations to Aurors and occasionally help out when I need to,”

Lydia already liked where this was going and urged her to carry on speaking.

“I can oversee an investigation into Rita Skeeter. What's she's doing - going to Muggles and obviously lying about who she is to get them to speak - is definitely against the law and she's an illegal animagus which will get her into a lot of trouble,” Hermione said, speaking as though they were just discussing the weather, “I've been thinking about turning her in since that first article she wrote about Harry and Draco and this is just the icing on the cake,”

“Do it,” Lydia said, “it is your job, after all,”

  
\---

**_ 7th June 2000 _ **

“I can't believe you're getting married tomorrow,” Harry said to her.

“Believe me, neither can I,” Lydia grinned.

They were sat in the bar of the venue that they were getting married at. Hermione was sat with her very confused parents and introducing them to everyone. Ron was awkwardly sat next to Hermione and was doing his best to not make eye contact at George who had been tormenting him all day. Lydia had half heartedly tried to make him stop but there was something quite amusing about watching Ron try to act normal around Mr Granger. Fleur was sat with Mrs Weasley, holding little Victoire Weasley in her arms. If it weren't for Teddy, Lydia would have said that Victoire was the cutest baby in the world.

“Lydia! Harry! Come over here!” Hermione called over to them.

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Come over. Please,”

Lydia and Harry glanced over at each other and made a great show of walking over to them very slowly. Ron was steadily turning more red and by the time Lydia sat next to him, he looked as though he had tears in his eyes. Teddy giggled at him and shouted, “red!” and then his hair turned ginger.

“His hair...” Mr Granger whispered, looking quite shocked.

“He’s a Metamorphmagus,” Lydia explained, “it means he can change the way he looks,”

“Don't worry about it, dad,” Hermione said, “he never changes his hair that much,”

“‘Mione!” Teddy said. When Hermione looked over at him, he turned his hair from ginger to big and bushy.

“He does that a lot as well,” Lydia said, letting Teddy go over to her, “you don't know true fear until you walk into your child's bedroom in the morning and he looks like your brother when he was a baby,”

Harry looked quite offended, “What's wrong with baby me? You looked like baby me!”

“Yeah, but I was cuter,” Lydia shrugged.

“You’re twins,” Ron said, slowly, “You look the same,”

“Yeah, but I'm cuter,” Lydia shrugged, “ask anyone,” she glanced around, “George, who's cuter me or Harry?”

“You, babe,” he replied, not even looking up from his conversation with Draco and Bill.

“Point, made,” Lydia said.

“Will you two behave!” Hermione hissed.

“He has to say that you're cuter because you're getting married tomorrow!” he snapped. He turned to Hermione's parents and smiled, “Mr and Mrs Granger, my name is Harry Potter, this is my sister, Lydia Potter- who is the cuter-”

“Silencio!” Hermione said.

Ron snorted and Harry turned to Hermione, mouthing words at her furiously. Mr and Mrs Granger looked like they weren't sure if they were meant to be laughing or not. Hermione slammed her hand on the table and leaned closer to Lydia and Harry, both of whom jumped.

“I spoke about you two for seven years,” Hermione said, “stop embarrassing me,”

Lydia sighed and sat back in her chair, folding her arms, “We might as well just agree that I'm the cutest,”

\---

The next morning, Lydia stood staring at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself, whilst not looking like herself at all. Perhaps it was the fact that in replacement of her Quidditch robes, she was wearing a white wedding dress. Perhaps it was the fact that her hair was not windswept as it usually was, but neat and not nearly as messy as she usually would. She tilted her head to the side and looked closer at the scar on the side of her neck. All she had wanted in a wedding dress was one that would cover this scar up. One panic attack later in a bridal salon and Hermione giving her a pep talk, Lydia realised that there was really no escaping it.

Her bridesmaids, all looking beautiful in pale yellow, were sat behind him. Talking animatedly. Lydia smiled at the sight of them. It was amazing that they had all somehow made it to this point. Though, the day was still tinged with sadness, all she could think about was her parents. She would do anything for them to be there. She wiped her eyes and tried not to think about how her dad had almost made it to the wedding...he had had a second chance and could have been walking her down the aisle instead.

The door opened and Harry walked in, beaming despite the tears in his eyes and Lydia knew that he was thinking the same thing as her. She immediately jumped up and hugged him.

“You look beautiful,” he said to her.

“Thank-you,” she said, straightening the lily that was pinned to the front of his robes, “you look like dad on his wedding day,”

“You're the seventeenth person to say that to me today,” he said, “I've been counting,”

She laughed and sat back down, wiping her eyes, “I really wish they were here,”

“Please, if dad was here, you'd never make it down the aisle,” Harry scoffed, “he was far too emotional for that,”

There was a knock on the door and Lydia looked over to it, frowning. She had no idea who that could be and suddenly, she felt herself began to panic. What if it was someone telling her that George suddenly didn't want to get married? What if something terrible had happened to someone and they had to cancel the wedding?

“Stop panicking,” Harry said to her, “I'm sure it's fine,” he smiled at her and then opened the door, revealing a woman who Lydia felt that she might have known at one point.

“Merlin, you look like-” the woman began.

“James on his wedding day,” Harry finished, “yeah, I know,”

“No, I was going to say you look like your Grandpa Fleamont,” the woman said.

Lydia was taken aback. That was the first time that anyone had ever mentioned their extended family to them. Which could only mean that she had known the Potters, or may even the Evans, for a long time. Harry stepped to the side slightly and let her into the room.

“I'm sorry,” she said, “I don't know if this is my place but...I knew that your mother would probably come and haunt me if I didn't do this,”

“Our mother?” Harry asked, “you knew her?”

“My name is Mary MacDonald,” she said, “I was one of her best friends at Hogwarts,” she took something out of her bag and handed it to Lydia, “it's a letter off your mother,”

“M-my mother?” Lydia asked.

Mary smiled at her and nodded, “When they had to go into hiding, she wrote letters to you both...just in case. They're all here I just...I never got them to you,” she smiled again, “enjoy your day, Lydia,”

They stood there, holding the wad of letters and not really knowing what to do. It was as though they had both suddenly forgotten how to read. Hermione stood up and walked over to them, smiling at them sadly.

“We’ll go,” she said, “and let you read them on your own. You have half an hour before the wedding starts, anyway,”

“Yeah,” Harry said, wiping his eyes, “thank-you, Hermione,”

Slowly, they both sat down and picked up the first letters. Lily had written the each a letter each. Lydia could barely bring herself to pick one up, never mind open them. Harry kept on picking one up and then putting them back down as though they had stung him. Finally, Lydia picked the one labelled, ‘On your first day of school,’ and opened the envelope.

“ _Dear Lydia,  
                The first thing I want you to know is that your years at Hogwarts will be the best of your life. You’ll make friends that you’ll never grow apart from and learn the most interesting things, though they won't be very interesting when you're sitting an exam (but don't worry, we’ve all been there). And I don't know if I'm going to be there for that day. If I'm not, know that your dad and I love you more than anything else in the whole world. If I am, you should already know this._

_Also, I know that you're going to be terrified of the Sorting Ceremony. Don't worry, it's not nearly as scary as you think it is. It's just an overly-pretentious hat going on with itself for a while. I do know that you’ll be most worried about your house, though, because I was the exact same. Despite what people at Hogwarts will say, your house is not who you are. It's just a place where you sleep and colours that you wear. Your house will not decide who you are for the rest of your life. Your dad and I will still love you the same regardless of what house you're in._

_Enjoy school, don't get into too much trouble and try and keep up on all your homework._

_Lots of love,  
Mum,”_

Lydia wiped her eyes and read the letter over and over again. Her eyes kept on being drawn to the bit she had written about the Sorting Ceremony. “ _Your dad and I will still love you the same regardless of what house you're in_ ,”. Lydia felt as though if she had read those words when she was eleven, her reaction to the Sorting Ceremony and being placed in Slytherin would have been completely different. She would never forget Rita Skeeter asking her how her parents would react if they knew that she was in Slytherin.

“Christ, I can't believe she did this,” Harry whispered, wiping his eyes. He picked up another one, “‘On your last day of school,’” he read out loud, “could’ve done with this one last year...”

Lydia smiled at him and picked up another one that had, ‘Happy Wedding Day!’ written on it. Making sure that they still had enough time before the wedding actually began, Lydia opened the envelope and began to read, wiping tears from her eyes.

“ _Lydia,  
         I hope that I made it to this day. If I didn't, know that I'm sorry. I thought about going wedding dress shopping with you the moment I held you in my arms for the first time. I should say though, as your dad reads this over my shoulder he says that neither of you are actually ever getting married. I think he would just like you both to be babies forever._

_I don't know who you're going to marry, but whoever it is, I hope that they make you feel safe, happy and loved. It is all that I want for you. If they ever put a hand on you, please know that I will launch something at their head and send them to St Mungo’s in a body bag. But I don't think you'll end up with someone awful, because if you're anything like me, you’ll fall head over heels for a lovable idiot. But never tell your dad that I said I fell head over heels for him. He’ll never let me forget it._

_Whether I'm there or not, I hope you enjoy the day. It really is the happiest day of your life, and you shouldn't let anything ruin that. I never let Petunia ruin my wedding day, and she tried her best to do so. I'm sure you will have heard all those stories by now, though._

_Have the best day. I love you so much,  
Mum,”_

“I'm going to ruin my makeup,” Lydia muttered, wiping her eyes.

“It's time to go now, anyway,” Harry said, standing up and putting the letters in his robes, “Ready to get married?”

“Can't wait,” Lydia grinned.

When they were stood at the end of the aisle, Lydia felt as though she had forgotten how to walk and was thankful when she could link arms with Harry. She looked up at him and beamed. He was already crying and Lydia could not believe that he had laughed at their dad for being over emotional. Even she hadn't started crying yet and it was her wedding day.

Lydia kept her eyes locked on George as they walked down the aisle. He looked the most handsome that Lydia had ever seen him and was smiling brightly. Mrs Weasley was quietly crying in the front row with Hermione, and Teddy, who George had appointed as best man, shouted, “Aunt Lydia!” from Ron’s arms. When they finally reached the front, Harry kissed her on the cheek and took his seat next to Draco, wiping his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” George whispered, turning to face the wizard doing the service.

“I told you blue goes great with red hair,” Lydia whispered back.

The wizard cleared his throat, “Welcome, everyone to the wedding of Lydia and George. You are here today to give them support and love as they embark on this next chapter of their life,” he smiled at Lydia and George, “Marriage is the greatest adventure that any of us can ever go on. Through love and patience; dedication and perseverance; through tenderness and laughter, you can have the greatest of lives together. And so I ask you this, will you, George, take this woman to be your wedded wife?”

“I will,” George said.

“And will you, Lydia, take this man to be your wedded husband?”

“I will,” Lydia said.

“Alright, here’s the fun bit, the vows,” he said, “please turn to face each other. You’ve written your own, I believe?”

George took an over exaggerated step to turn towards her, still beaming. There was a few moments of silence and then Lydia nudged him slightly.

“You’re mean to say the vow,” she whispered.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, “sorry, I didn’t realise I was going first,” he cleared his throat, “Lyds, I knew you were something special when I watched you hex a seventh year when you were fourteen. I just never thought that you’d be something special to me, and I’m really thankful that you are because you have changed me for the better. And I’m still shocked that you actually went to spend the rest of your life with me because I’m a bit of a nightmare,”

Lydia laughed and shook her head, wiping her eyes.

“But I’m not complaining about it,” he added, quickly, “and, uh - oh, I’m going to cry,” he wiped his eyes, “I promise to love you forever, support you through everything and to limit my ear jokes to at least two a day. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lydia said.

“And now, Lydia will make her vows,”

Lydia took a deep breath, “George, if eleven year old me knew that she’d end up marrying a Weasley, she’d probably go running in the opposite direction of every ginger she ever came across. Now, I can’t imagine marrying anyone else. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky, but I’m very happy that I did whatever I did to get to this point,”

“Me too,” George murmured.

“And I promise to stand by you through everything, love you unconditionally and even put up with your ear jokes, because I secretly love your jokes sometimes,”

“Holding that against you forever,” he winked.

“Can I have the rings, please?” The officiant asked.

“Oh, that’s my job,” Charlie said, running forward, “here you go,”

“Repeat after me, George. I give you this ring...”

“I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you,” George said, sliding the ring onto her finger.

“And Lydia, the same...”

“I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you,” she said, almost dropping it.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Weasley, you are officially husband and wife! You may kiss!”

Lydia grinned and kissed George. She felt as though she was floating and like nothing could ever harm her again as they walked back down the aisle hand in hand, confetti swirling all around them.

The meal came and went, and Lydia sobbed through the speeches that George and Hermione made. Then it was time for Harry’s speech, something Lydia knew that he had been terrified about since he agreed to do one in place of James.

“Hello, everyone,” he said, “um, thank-you for coming, I guess. I had a mini panic this morning thinking that no one would turn up and now I’m looking at you all and realising that I know way more people than I thought I did.

Obviously, our dad isn’t here to make this speech, and there’s many people who aren’t here today, so I’d like to raise a glass, for the third time today, for everyone who could not be here,”

Lydia raised her glass and closed her eyes, envisioning Lily, James, Remus and Sirius stood before her, bathed in the light of the Resurrection Stone. It was strange to think of how she had managed to completely distance herself from any thoughts of the wedding as she made her way into the Forest.

“Lydia and I grew up quite lonely, but we always had each other, and now we have a whole army -quite literally at one point - a whole army of people around us. And George, I’ve known you a long time now, you’re my brother-in-law, I think you’re great, but if you hurt her I swear on my life I will cut your other ear off and hex you into next year,”

George nodded, “hearing you loud and clear, Harry,”

“Good, just making sure. Although, I think Lydia has proved time and time again that she is more than capable of sticking up for herself,” he smiled down at her, “you are genuinely the greatest sister that I could have ever asked for. I love you and I’m so proud of you and everything that you’ve achieved. And looking back on our lives, it is kinda crazy that we got here. And I’m not even talking about the war, I’m talking about the fact that Hermione somehow got through her years at Hogwarts without cursing me, you or Ron. Or the fact that we used to sneak around after curfew and still survived after Professor McGonagall found us,”

“There were days when we almost didn’t survive,” Ron reminded him.

“That’s true,” Harry said, “like in first year when were smuggling a dragon out of the castle - as you do - and Lydia genuinely told Mr Filch that the only reason we were out of bed so late was because we were making sure that he wasn’t lonely prowling the castle at night,”

Lydia buried her face in her hands as people laughed. That was a memory that she had completely forgotten about.

“Obviously, Lydia is the only Slytherin that isn’t cunning and we got detention,” Harry said, “and we got detention quite a lot, but there really was no one else I’d want to spend detention with. The worst detention I ever had, however, was the joint one I had with Lydia and Fred and George. It was in my fourth year and we just happened to be walking down the sixth floor corridor when those idiots set off three boxes of fireworks. Professor Snape was the teacher who found us and we got detention for a month. But those are some of my happiest memories and ones that I’ll never forget. And so I’d like to raise a glass to Lydia Pott- oh, no, Lydia Weasley, for being a pretty good sister,”

What Lily had written in her letter was true; her wedding day really was the happiest day of her life. It was the first day in a long time where she wasn't worried about anything. Everything was as it should be and she didn't really want it to end. This had probably been one of the first times in her life when she was the centre of attention, and no one could link it back to something awful.

George walked over to her, somehow balancing Teddy and two drinks all at once.

“How are you feeling, Mrs Weasley?” he asked, handing the drink over to her.

“Very happy, Mr Weasley,”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> I'm amazed that I ever actually made it to the wedding, but I'm very proud of myself for doing so. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> -E.


	53. Honeymoon

Lydia dropped her wand onto the bed and stretched, opening the curtains and letting the bright sunlight spill into the room. The stars seemed to have aligned and all their plans had actually gone to plan; after the wedding, they had wanted nothing more than to disappear off the face of the earth for a while and they were actually able to. The new Quidditch season did not start until November and they did not begin training until the end of August, and so they had a whole seven weeks to themselves.

They had rented a tiny house and a minuscule island somewhere off the mainland of Spain. The Wizarding resort they were staying in was full of locals who had either had no idea about the war or just did not care who Lydia was, because they mainly ignored them and it was more than Lydia could have ever asked for. For the first time in her life, she was just a normal person on her honeymoon with her husband and child.

A very freckly George walked into the room carrying Teddy who had seen George's freckles and seemed to have decided that he wanted freckles as well. As cute as he looked, Lydia felt as though he might have overdone it because he looked more like one giant freckle than anything else. Though, that was a hard thing to communicate to a two year old.

“We’re going swimming,” George said.

“Be careful,” Lydia told him.

“When am I not?” He asked, “Actually, don't answer that,”

Lydia strolled to the front porch that overlooked the swimming pool in the front yard. She had tried to go swimming the first day they had got there, but had quickly discovered that she seemed to have a strange aversion to water. Despite the fact that the water was pleasant and warm, all Lydia could think about was the iciness of the Black Lake when she was in her fourth year and the feeling of dropping into the lake after breaking into Gringotts. Feeling her hands begin to shake, Lydia turned her back on the swimming pool and went back into the house to pour herself a glass of water; it felt as though every day she discovered something else that had traumatised her at one point in her life. She was starting to think that the only thing that didn't terrify her was Teddy and Quidditch.

Although, the more she thought about it, the more she realised that Teddy did terrify her - bringing him up did, anyway. She could no longer keep up with all the times she had to say, “never the Dursleys,” to herself. Sometimes, she would lie wide awake at night, terrified of not waking up the next morning because then she would have to leave Teddy behind.

“Come on, Weasley,” she muttered to herself, “it's your honeymoon. Cheer up,”

But she couldn't cheer up. She was very happy to be away from cold, dreary England and to spend her days doing absolutely nothing without feeling guilty about it, but the effects of the war still lingered and she could not seem to move on from it. She was meant to be enjoying the happiest weeks of her life and yet she could not. The worst thing about it all was that she didn't feel like she couldn't talk to George about it because he just seemed so happy. He almost looked as happy as he did before the war, and Lydia did not want to be the one to ruin that for him. Especially on their honeymoon.

Still, Lydia thought to herself, that didn't mean that she wouldn't be able to talk about it soon; Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were coming to join them in their final week away and Hermione was probably dying to have a counselling session with at least one of them. She could hold everything in for another two weeks and then get Hermione on her own. It probably wouldn't be a hard task to do, anyway, Lydia was willing to bet everything she owned that after six weeks of only having Harry, Ron and Draco for company would probably have driven her insane.

Lydia walked back outside, carrying a bottle of Butterbeer with a smile plastered on her face. She sat back in her chair and watched George and Teddy splash around in the pool. Lydia knew that they were safe, of course they were safe, it was only a swimming pool but all she could think about was the Grindylows that had attacked her and the fear of not being able to breathe. She sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. The wedding had been a great distraction from everything that had happened. The Battle of Hogwarts did not seem nearly as important when she was too busy trying to find the right shade of yellow for the Bridesmaids dresses. Now she was back to dreaming about the courtroom and the loo on Voldemort’s face just before he killed her.

“You OK?” George asked.

She jumped, she had not even noticed that he had gotten out of the pool with Teddy.

“Yeah,” Lydia said, taking Teddy off him, “I’m just tired,”

“It's the sun,” George said, “that's what my mum always says, anyway. I'm going for a shower,”

She allowed her smile to drop as George walked back into the house. All she had really wanted was to be happy. Was that too much to ask for? As she always did when thinking about her life, Lydia felt a rush of anger towards Dumbledore who she thought about more than she wanted to. She would never understand why he put her and Harry through what he did. He could have easily gone after the Horcruxes, he could have just let Lydia kill herself and then Harry wouldn't have had to deal with everything that he had to now.

Her thoughts actually startled her and she held Teddy closer to her. You don't want to kill yourself, she said over and over again to herself, you have things to live for now. There's no more Voldemort. No more death eaters. No more Horcruxes. She thought about every single person who had attended the wedding and had been happy to support her and George on the day of the wedding. And there was Teddy. Teddy was more important than anything in the world right now and she could not leave him. Sighing, she twirled her rings around her finger. There was no way she could do that to him. Or anyone. Lydia wiped her eyes and wished that she could talk to her mum.

“Mum...” Lydia whispered.

She jumped up and ran back into the house. Teddy seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing and was giggling the entire time. George walked out of the bathroom just as she rushed passed him and she shoved Teddy into his arms.

“Lydia, what are you-”

“Napping,” she said, “I’m tired. The sun, you know what it's like,”

Lydia slammed the door shut behind her and dove towards her suitcase, throwing it open. She rifled through it, chucking everything that she had yet to unpack out of it. Finally, at the very bottom of it and underneath three bikinis that she would rather die than ever have to wear, she found the wad of letters that her mother had written for them. The only reason that she had brought them with her was because it was the closest that she would ever get to her mother again. She had already read the one about going on a honeymoon over and over again. Lily really had covered every single thing that could ever happen in her and Harry’s life.

“‘For all your bad days, because you will have them,’” Lydia read out loud. She grinned and ripped it open, getting as comfortable as she could whilst practically being half sat in the suitcase.

“Lydia,   
If I could wish for one thing it would be that you and Harry are happy for the rest of your lives. I would probably kill someone if it meant that I knew you'd never cry, but I obviously know that this isn't something that is possible. I can offer you some words of comfort though and I have no idea if you'll ever listen to me, but I like to think that in some perfect world children listen to their parents all the time.

One bad day does not equal a bad life.   
Speak to someone about what's going on in your head. It's better out than in.   
You are most definitely not the only person   
Stop being over dramatic.

And listen, I have no idea what is going to come of your life. I'm not so stupid to think that you will have a perfect life. I look around at what's going on right now and I have no idea when it will end. I hope that by the time you and Harry are older, the war is nothing but a history lesson that you'll get bored in.

And I'm going to be honest with you, Lydia, my bad days come around more often than not. But here's the thing, bad days are inevitable. Once the war ends, I'm still going to have bad days but that's ok, because bad days means that I'm still alive. Bad days are what makes us appreciate the days when we feel like nothing could ever hurt us again.

What I'm trying to say is that the bad days will come and when they do, you just have to keep on going and hold the people you love close.

I hope that I'm there with you,   
Love,   
Mum,”

Lydia read the letter over and over again; “Once the war ends, I'm still going to have bad days but that's ok, because bad days means that I'm still alive,”. She read it so much, that Lydia could almost hear her mother actually saying it to her. She actually glanced behind her just to make sure that she hadn't materialised next to her.

“Don't be stupid,” Lydia said, “she's dead. You know she's dead,”

There was a knock on the door and George walked in, “Teddy is napping and - why are you sat in a suitcase?”

“No reason,” she muttered, wiping her eyes and clambering out of it, “Probably the sun,”

He glanced down at the letter in her hand, “‘For all your bad days, because you will have them,’” he read out loud, “Are you OK?”

“Fine,” she said.

“You're obviously not fine or you wouldn't be reading a letter that you're meant to read when you're having a bad day,”

“George, it's nothing-”

“I'm your husband, you can talk to me,” he said, gently.

Lydia stared at him for a few seconds and then sighed, “I don't want to ruin-”

“You're not ruining anything,” he took her hand and they sat on the bed. “Just talk to me, Lyds, please,”

“I'm scared,” she whispered, “I'm scared that I'm never going to be normal again. I can't even go swimming. All I can think about is the fucking Triwizard Tournament and that time I jumped off a bloody dragon and into a lake,” she groaned and put her head in her hands, “and I'm terrified that me and you are going to die in some freak accident and then Teddy will end up with the Dursleys,”

“You're expecting too much of yourself,” he told her, “it's only been two years since the war. You didn't really expect everything to fall perfectly into place once the war ended, did you?”

“I didn't expect to survive the war,” Lydia pointed ou, “I wasn't even meant to survive the war. That was the whole point of the damn war,”

George sighed and pointed at her mums letter, “‘Once the war ends, I'm still going to have bad days but that's ok, because bad days means that I'm still alive,’” she made a good point. Not everyone has the privilege of being alive. Your mum included. She wouldn't want you to give it all up,”

“I don't want to kill myself, George,” she muttered.

“You can't lie to me about that shit, Lydia,” George said, firmly. “You know that better than anyone. When he gets here, why don't you talk to Draco? There's stuff at St Mungo's for people who've experienced trauma-”

“Ah, the kind of thing that people suggested to me and Harry when that Quibbler article was published,” Lydia sorted, “one idiot suggested a course of shock spells for us,”

“Lydia, you're the only one out of us all who doesn't go to therapy,” George said, a note of annoyance in his voice. They had had this conversation one million times, “it helps,”

“It's helps you!” Lydia snapped, “I don't need people telling me how I feel,”

“They don't tell you how you feel,” he said, “they tell you how to deal with how you feel,”

“I'm doing perfectly fine on my own, thanks,”

“Right,” he said, getting up, “I don't want to argue when we’re on our honeymoon. I don't even like arguing when we’re not on our honeymoon. I don't like arguing full stop!”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “You're the one who brought up something that always starts an argument! We were talking about how everything in my life is shit and-”

“Everything in your life is shit?” He asked, quietly.

“Wait, no, George, I didn't mean-”

“I'm going for a walk,” he said, slamming the door behind him as he walked out.

“Nice one, Lydia,” she muttered to herself, “You did really well on that one. God, you should get Wife of the Year. I mean, how many couples argue on their honeymoon and then stay married forever? Divorce is fun, I'm sure of it. Loads of people get divorced and that doesn't scar them and their family forever. It's not as though you have a child together and your best friend is the girlfriend of his brother who is also your best friend. Not to mention the fact that you know his parents more than you know your own parents - Christ on a heavenly bike I'm talking to myself,”

In an attempt to stop herself from crying, Lydia began to tidy the room. She snatched her wand off the bed and flicked it at the letters. They all organised themselves into a neat pile in the suitcase.The one at the very top of the suitcase caught her eye and even though she felt like the last one had caused more harm than good, she couldn't help but pick it up.

“For when you're arguing with the one person you don't want to argue with,” it read. Against her better judgement she opened it, and was quite disappointed when it only contained one word; “speak,”.

“Easier said than done,” she hissed at the sky, as though her mother would be able to hear her.

“Gra’ma! Gra’ma!”

Lydia groaned and ran to Teddy’s room. Every now and then, he would become inconsolable because he would want no one but Andromeda. The fact that it was so close to the full moon was not making anyone feel better, anyway. She picked him up out of his cot but he kept on kicking and hitting his fists off her neck and chest. The only time that he ever acted out was when he wanted Andromeda, and that made dealing him with even harder.

“Come on, Teddy,” she whispered, “come on, it's OK, it's OK, shhh, shhh...come on...”

“GRA’MA!” He screamed.

“T-Teddy, you can't see her...I'm s-sorry!” she said, though she was quite sure that he probably couldn't hear her over how loud he was screaming.

It took Teddy an hour to calm back by which point Lydia had probably cried more than he had and George had still not come back. Once Teddy was napping again, Lydia collapsed onto the couch and tried to stop herself crying. No one had ever actually sat her down and told her how difficulty raising a child would be. Or perhaps she had been too naive to think that it would be easy.

Lydia wandered out onto the patio and sat down, taking in the view. They had been ridiculously lucky to get somewhere with a sea view. Her eyes scanned the beach, expecting to see George but he was nowhere to be seen. The only people on the beach were two people wearing dark robes. Her heart skipped a beat and she jumped up, leaning over the railing. They looked like death eaters and Lydia's hand automatically went to her wand, before she stopped herself.

“Death eaters aren't the only people who wear dark robes,” she whispered to herself, putting her wand back down on the table, “everyone wears dark robes. You wear dark robes sometimes,”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Lydia didn't have to turn around to know that it was George.

“It's called therapy,” she said, “it's very helpful, you know,”

“That's low,” he said.

“Thank-you,”

“I'm sorry,” George said, after a while. “You were upset and I made it worse. I shouldn't have brought up therapy. You don't want to go and I can't make you do that,”

“I mean, I did probably say the shittiest thing I could have done,” Lydia said, “I shouldn't have said that everything in my life is shit, because that's not true,”

“I know,” he said, quietly, “but you really can't expect everything to go back to how it was. We’re never going to be the same people that we were,”

“I wish we could, though,”

“I don't. Ron was an annoying eleven year old. He's a less annoying twenty year old,”

Lydia laughed and looked over at the sea again. The two black robed people were still stood there. They didn't seem to have moved since the last time that Lydia had looked over but she put it from her mind. George was right, they weren't the same people that they had been. There was nothing sinister about two people being stood on a beach.

"How's Teddy?" George asked. 

"Started screaming for Andromeda but apart from that, fine," Lydia said, shrugging, "but it's the full moon tomorrow, so he'll be a bit..off,"

"Yeah..." he said, "hey, we should go to that restaurant tonight. You know the one we keep on walking past?" 

Lydia was beginning to think that the full moon might have stared having an effect on her. Perhaps it was because she was always near Teddy, perhaps it was because she was starting to lose her mind or maybe the sun really was having a negative effect on her. Or maybe she had eaten too much pasta. Definitley the pasta, she decided, wiping Teddy's face. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but I've been really busy. 
> 
> Anyway, I had a brainwave last night of where I want to take this and I'm really excited for it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and thanks for the Kudos! 
> 
> -E.


	54. The Dark Order

When Lydia woke up on the first day of their final week, she passed Harry and Ron who had passed out on the couch the night before and sat on the patio. Hermione was already awake and reading whilst George was with Teddy in the pool. Whenever she saw the two of them in the pool together, she felt her heart break a little bit more because she could never join them. Which then only made her worry that when Teddy got older, he would always associate fun with George and not her.

“You look terrible,” Hermione said, looking over the top of her book at her.

“Couldn't sleep,” Lydia muttered.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“I just...never mind, it’s stupid,”

Hermione put her book down, “You and George had a fight, you said something you wish you hadn't, and now you feel terrible,”

Lydia folded her arms and slumped down in her chair, “how do you even know-”

“I know everything,” Hermione shrugged. She sighed, “what was the fight about?”

Lydia recounted the argument to Hermione who didn't react to anything until she was finished speaking. Then, she sat in silence for a while and looked away from her, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

“I’m saying this because I'm your best friend and I love you-”

“Already hate the sound of this,” Lydia muttered.

“-but maybe you should go to therapy,” Hermione continued, completely ignoring her. She held up a hand to shut Lydia up when she opened her mouth to fight back, “the reason you don't want to go is because you've been avoiding it for so long and now you've built it up to something it's not,”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at Hermione, “can you read minds?”

Hermione ignored her again and carried on talking, “the fact that you're the most stubborn person in the whole entire world is not helping the situation either, Lyds. It helps me, it helps Harry, it helps Ron, it helps George...Merlin, Lydia, you died...you need to talk to someone who wasn't there when were hunting Horcruxes and wasn't there during the Battle,”

She groaned, “I know! That's the annoying thing, I know,”

“Do something about it then,” Hermione said, bluntly, “If you don't get help, then your entire life could be ruined. Your career could be ruined. Everything that we fought for would be ruined,”

Lydia sighed and took a sip of her tea, giving her time to think about what she was going to say next. Hermione did not wait for her to answer and instead called Draco over to them. The last thing that Lydia wanted was to bring more attention to the entire thing, but she had long since accepted that there was very little chance she would ever live through a week without getting an annoying amount of attention.

“What?” Draco asked, sitting down.

“Lydia needs to go to therapy,” Hermione said.

“I completely agree,” Draco said. Lydia felt as though he agreed too quickly but decided not to bring it up, “I can sort it out for you at work,”

In the end, Lydia felt as though she could no longer get away from it and just nodded along. She had no idea whether or not she would actually go, but that was another issue for another day. Which made her think about another issue that had been playing on her mind recently.

Lydia bent closer to Hermione, “Tell me if I'm going mad or not but...have you noticed weird people around here? Like...people wearing dark robes and just...staring,”

Hermione paused for a moment and then smiled at but before she could reply, there was a groan from behind them and Harry collapsed into the chair next to Lydia.

“A whole bottle of Firewhiskey is too much,” he said, “‘Mione, can we make a mental note to not have a whole bottle of Firewhiskey? Also, Ron might be dead. I'm not sure,”

“Weasley isn't dead,” Draco said, “he just isn't alive,”

“You must be an amazing Healer, Draco,” Lydia sighed.

“I am,” Draco agreed, “people find it very comforting when I tell them that their beloved family member is not quite alive, but not quite dead,”

Hermione turned around and looked into the house, “do you think I should check on him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Lydia shrugged, “if he can get through the hangover he had after the wedding, he can get through this one,”

“He couldn't eat for three days afterwards,” Hermione pointed out.

“He’s just being-” Draco was interjected by Ron groaning loudly, “dramatic,”

In the end, Hermione dragged Ron off the couch and forced him to go on a walk in an attempt to get ‘fresh air,’. Lydia felt as though what he really needed was a lot of food and to be left alone for at least the next twenty years. When the door shut behind them, Draco immediately got up and started mixing a hangover cure in a cauldron that Lydia had not even realised they had. Harry hovered around him the entire time and Lydia felt like that was less to do with wanting to spend as much time with his boyfriend as possible and just being desperate for something to do with his hangover.

“Want a game of Quidditch?” Harry asked her as the sun began to set.

“There's not enough of us,” Lydia pointed out.

“Also Lydia is playing on a completely different level to us now, whoever isn't on her team would be on a nightmare,” George said.

Harry waved his hand impatiently, “One Chaser on each team, a seeker on each, two Keepers. Me and Draco with Ron, you two with-”

“Oh, not a chance, Potter,” Draco said, “Slytherin against Gryffindor, for old times sake. I'll be Seeker with Lydia, you’ll be Seeker with George,”

“This is how relationships end,” Ron muttered, still looking quite queasy.

Harry held up his arm and showed them the Snitch bracelet that Lydia had bought him for his sixteenth birthday, “Knew this would come in handy one day,” he tapped it with his wand and they all got a quick glimpse of it for a moment before it vanished from sight.

“Now I'm interested,” Lydia said, “I'm calling dibs on Ron for Keeper though. No offence, Hermione. You're great at everything but Quidditch,”

“None taken, I am terrible,” Hermione said, matter-of-factly.

They took the occasional break to go and make sure that Teddy was OK but apart from that, it was like they were back at school again, only Draco was there and he wasn't insulting them as much as he usually would. Lydia and Draco, it transpired, were a very good team and Lydia felt that if the Slytherin Quidditch team would have just been them, they definitely would have won more games. She always felt like Crabbe and Goyle let the team down, but she wasn't going to ruin the night and tell that to him.

The highlight of Hermione's short-lived Quidditch career came when she actually saved a Quaffle thrown by Lydia. Though, no one had the heart to tell her that it was only because Harry ‘accidentally’ knocked into her at the exact wrong moment and so they let brag that she had beaten a professional Quidditch player. As Lydia could have predicted, Harry beat Draco to the Snitch and she once again became quite angry that he had never taken Quidditch up professionally. Lydia loved every player on her team and there was no denying how good of a player every single one of them was, but sometimes the Seeker, Meadows, really took his time to catch the Snitch.

“Hey, who's that over there?,” Draco said once they had landed on the ground.

Lydia looked over and gasped loudly. Two people in dark robes were walking towards the house. She spun around and punched Hermione in the arm, “They’re the people I was talking about the other day! And you never answered,” she added, suddenly realising that they had not finished the conversation.

“Let's go in,” Harry said, apparently unaware of what was happening, “do you have protective enchantments around this place?”

“Yes, of course we- what aren't you telling me?” Lydia asked.

“Nothing,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her into the house, “I was just asking for Auror training. We do a lot about protective enchantments,”

“You know every single protective enchantment there is, when we were on the run-”

“I know,” he shrugged, “but sometimes I forget. That was a while ago, you know,”

Lydia glared at him as he shut the door behind them and drew the curtains, “Harry. You're hiding something from me,”

“I'm really not,” he said. He smiled at her, “that was a good game,”

“Stop trying to change the subject,”

“I'm not!”

“Who are those people?” She demanded.

“The people outside?” He asked, “I don't know, probably locals,”

“If I find out you're lying to me, I’ll-”

“Hex me,” Harry finished, “I know, Lydia. I'm not stupid,”

“You're doing a very good impression of it!” Lydia snapped, very angry at how vague he was being. He sounded an awful lot like Dumbledore and it made her want to punch him in the face.

George was looking between them as though he wasn't sure whether or not to get involved or not, and Ron, Hermione and Draco were so used to their bickering, that they had both lost interest and were onto a completely different subject entirely. Lydia gave Harry a searching look but he had his back to her and was rummaging through the fridge. The images of the dark robed figures burst to the front of her mind again and she rushed upstairs to make sure that Teddy was OK.

“Of course you're OK,” she whispered as she stood over him peacefully sleeping.

Maybe Harry was right. They probably were just locals who liked to wear dark robes. There was no way they could be death eaters; Lydia would be able to recognise death eater robes from a mile off and those robes were to raggedy, and as far as she could tell, they hadn't been wearing masks.

“Bellatrix Lestrange didn't always wear a mask,” a small voice said at the back of her mind.

“Yeah, but...Bellatrix Lestrange was Voldemort's second. She followed different rules,” Lydia snapped back, “there's no more death eaters left. No more powerful ones, anyway,”

It took her a few minutes to realise that he was having an argument with herself in her head and she started to laugh quietly to herself. She really was being paranoid. If this had been before the war, she probably wouldn't have thought it weird. The only reason that Draco had noticed anything was probably because he was a paranoid as she was. Once she had talked herself out of her spiral, she walked back downstairs and rejoined the others, not giving anything that was happening outside another thought.

\---

There was a bang and Lydia squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She was just having a nightmare. It would pass eventually. It always did. Though, she rarely had nightmares when she was napping. There was another bang and Lydia accepted the fact that it was going to be one of those really long and drawn out ones. It was only when the third bang sounded throughout the house and Hermione shook her awake that she realised there might be something wrong.

“Come on! Get up!” Hermione shouted at her, “We’re being-” she jumped as there was another bang “-we’re being attacked!”

“A-attacked?” Lydia asked, trying to wrap her sleepy mind around it all.

“Attacked,” Hermione confirmed, pulling her up and shoving her wand in her hand, “We’re being attacked. Come on-”

“Wait! Teddy!” Lydia yelled, turning in the direction of his bedroom.

“George is with him,” Hermione said, grabbing her hand.

Lydia yanked her hand out of Hermione's grip, “What's going on? I don't understand,”

“Those people you've been seeing, they're attacking us!”

“There's only two of them and we’re with two Aurors-”

“There's ten of them now. Come on, all hands on deck,”

Lydia followed Hermione out onto the front lawn and, sure enough, there were ten robed wizards putting up a furious fight. Harry, Ron and Draco were dealing with two at a time and Hermione immediately ran into the midst of it all, her wand raised. Lydia was about to run after them but she found herself paralysed in fear. What if she took the duel one step too far and then killed someone? What if she used Dark Magic? What if she ended up back on trial again? They were no longer fighting in the war when Lydia had nothing to lose and could do what she wanted without fear of consequence. Things were different now. She had the most she had ever had in her entire life and was in no rush to lose anymore people.

One of the Wizards was coming towards her and their wand was raised, but Lydia just stared ahead at them. She could hear a voice in her head screaming spells at her, telling her to curse them, but she could not bring herself to raise her wand. There was a time in her life when she would have been able to hex this person without so much of a second thought, but she was not the person that she had been.

“Stupefy!”

“I thought you were with Teddy,” she said.

Lydia jumped as a jet of red light hit them in the chest and they fell to the ground. She looked around, expecting to see Harry or Ron, but it was George who was running over to her. At first, she was happy to see him but that happiness was quickly replaced with fear. She looked behind George and did a quick headcount. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were all fighting. Teddy was alone.

“No, I thought you were,”

Without saying anything to him, Lydia spun back around and ran back into the house. She burst into Teddy’s room which was mercifully empty apart from Teddy who was sat in the corner of his corner of his bed, tears silently streaming down his face. At once, Lydia dropped her wand to the bed and picked him up, shushing him.

“Scared,” he whispered, “loud noises,”

“You don't have to be scared,” she told him, “Nothing bad is happening. Everything is going to be just fine,”

There was another loud bang but Lydia didn't let herself react to it. She didn't let herself think about how much it sounded like the Battle of Hogwarts or how much it sounded like the explosion that had killed Fred. She refused to let herself go back to that night. If she started to panic, then so would Teddy and all she wanted to do was keep his calm as possible. The sounds of the battle were getting closer and closer to the house, and Teddy was starting to cry louder. Lydia was just hoping that the protective enchantments around the house would keep up. That was when she realised that they had put the most simple ones up.

“Where's Uncle George?” Teddy asked her.

“He is outside with the others being silly,” Lydia lied.

“He's always silly,”

“You are right, Teddy. Uncle George is always being silly,” Lydia said, trying to think of anything to distract him from what was going on outside, “he was especially silly at school. Him and his brother used to mess about all the time and-”

She fell silent at the sounds of footsteps coming towards them, and they were not footsteps that she recognised. Heart in her mouth, she snatched her wand off the bed and kicked the door shut, locking it. She turned her back on the door and smiled down at Teddy, tying to shush him in the most gentle way possible.

“Be quiet,” she whispered, “we need to be very, very quiet...”

The sound of the footsteps died away and Lydia felt herself calm down. It could have been anyone. Maybe she was hearing things. Maybe this was all just one terrible nightmare and when she woke up, the day would not have even started.

“We’re going to be alright, Teddy,” Lydia whispered, though she felt like she was talking to herself more than she was talking to anyone else.

The footsteps came back and Lydia closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Teddy who had began to cry again. She heard someone try to open the door and she willed herself to stay calm. Teddy tried to say something but she quickly shushed him, not daring to look behind her. In her mind, if she did not look at the door, then it would not open and whoever was on the other side would not come in.

“ _Alohomora_ ,”

The door swung open and Lydia held Teddy closer to her. Whoever it was that was in the room with them, had not said anything and maybe they would not. Perhaps they would just get bored and walk away. Then Lydia realised that having her back to a possible attacker was probably the worst thing that she could do. Slowly, she placed Teddy on the bed behind her and moved in front of him so that he was hidden from sight.

“Hello, Lydia,” it was one of the people in the dark robes, but Lydia could not see who they were. Their hood was pulled over their face.

“Where are the others?” Lydia asked, quickly. His answer would probably determine how she acted next.

“Outside,” he said, dismissively, “They’re fine though. They put up a good fight,”

“Yeah, well, that's how you win a war,” Lydia said, “Who are you?”

“The Ministry say that we’re the last remaining death eaters, but we’re not,” he said, “We're better, more powerful than the death eaters,”

Lydia frowned at him.

“More powerful than the death eaters?”

“Does that scare you?”

“No. The death eaters were not particularly powerful. A Pygmy Puff could be more powerful than the death eaters. If it weren't for Voldemort, they'd never have gotten anywhere,”

Usually, Lydia would just curse him and move on, but she didn't want Teddy to see that. She was just trying to kill time before someone could come and find them. Behind her, she felt Teddy wrap his arms arounds her leg and tears sprang to her eyes. He was not going to get hurt. She would do anything if it meant that Teddy would come away from all this unscathed.

“They said you were scarier than this,” the person continued, “Do you know how many people told me that you were the one to look out for,”

Lydia cleared her throat, “I’m not here to play into whatever weird narrative you have. I just want you to l-leave,”

“I’m almost disappointed,”

“You'd be surprised how many people I disappoint on a daily basis,” Lydia shrugged.

“You know what this reminds me of?” He continued, gesturing around the room, “the way the Dark Lord killed your mother. Wasn't she stood in front of her babies, desperate to keep them hidden?” He laughed slightly, “do you think little Teddy Lupin would be able to survive a Killing Curse?”

“I survived the Killing Curse twice,” Lydia said, sounding braver than she actually did, “do you want to have another go?”

This time, he laughed a lot louder and Lydia heard Teddy whimper.

“The Potter’s and their arrogance really is something astonishing! Do you really think you'd survive a third time?”

“I don't know,” Lydia said, trying to sound casual, “Weirder things have happened,”

He made a move towards her but Lydia forced herself to stay still. She was going to get out of this. These were the kind of things that she always survived. That's what she and Harry did, they survived. They were the Children who Lived, after all.

“You never answered my question,” Lydia said, quickly, “You never told me who you are,”

“We’re just trying to continue Lord Voldemort’s legacy. Get rid of the Mudbloods, Half-Bloods, blood traitors...you know, those who aren't worthy. The scum of the earth,” he shrugged, “Your Mudblood friend would be the first to go, then your husband, your Brother-in-law...you’re in-laws in general, really. Then, I think, we’d get rid of your son for-”

“ _Confundus_!” Lydia said, hastily.

Whilst he was confused, Lydia whirled around and picked Teddy up and rushed out of the room. The first person she bumped into was Harry. He didn't look too badly hurt and so Lydia shoved Teddy into his arms and turned back around to face the dark robed wizard who was still swaying on the spot slightly.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

It took a while to put the house back in order again. British Aurors were contacted and turned up within the hour. Lydia did not care to sit around and talk to them. Instead, she made sure that everyone was ok and locked herself in her room with Teddy. He was no longer crying and did not seem traumatised. They passed the time as they always by sitting on the bed together and flicked through a book about colours that Percy had bought Teddy for Christmas. Lydia would point at a colour and then Teddy would do his best to replicate the colour on his hair. Sometimes it went really well, sometimes he would just revert back to his usual blue until Lydia pointed at another colour that he actually liked.

A quarter of an hour passed before George came in. Despite the fact that he had been in the sun for the past six weeks, he looked very pale. He dropped down onto the bed next to her and put his hands over his face, shaking his head.

“The Aurors are gone. Everything is fine,” he told her, “are you OK? Is Teddy?”

“We’re fine,” she said, “I just...I...what happened?”

“I have no idea,” he said, “but they looked like death eaters. They acted like the death eaters,”

“I know,” Lydia whispered, suddenly feeling cold despite the sun that shone brightly outside.

There was a knock on the door and Hermione popped her head in, “Come on. We need to talk about what just happened,”

Back in the living room, Harry was stood in the middle of the room, pacing up and down. Ron was stood at the window, staring at the locals who had crowded outside the house, all as confused as Lydia was. It took Lydia a moment to notice Draco; he was stood in the shadowy corner of the room, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, hurrying over to her, “is Teddy-”

“Fine,” Lydia said, “We’re fine. What happened?”

“It's nothing,” Harry said, hurriedly. “You don't need to worry-”

“Don't,” Lydia interjected, “don't try and brush this under the rug. Don't try and act as though people didn't just try and kill us,”

Harry sighed and hung his head, “I know, Lyds, I know,”

“Who were those people?” Lydia demanded.

“No one you need to-”

“Tell me I don't need to worry about them and I swear to god I will hex you into next year,”

Harry clenched his jaw and looked away from her. Lydia stood and stared at him, her arms folded. She had no idea what was up with him, but she would do whatever she could to get to the bottom of what had just happened.

“Just stick to playing Quidditch, Lydia,” Harry said finally.

Anger roared in Lydia's chest and she had to stop herself from trying to punch him, “What's that meant to mean? Just because I play Quidditch for a living doesn't mean I lose my right to know what's going on! You're not even a qualified Auror so stop acting like you are!”

“He is qualified,” Hermione said, frowning, “You know he qualified. He found out a couple of weeks ago,”

“I did not know that,” Lydia said, through gritted teeth. She turned to George who was holding Teddy, “Did you know that my brother somehow completed a four year, highly advanced training course in less than a year?”

“I, uh, I did not but I also don't want to get in the middle of this argument,”

“Harry,” Hermione said, “You said you told her,”

“I didn't want to tell her because I knew she'd overreact like she is!” Harry exclaimed, “I already have the experience-”

“Ronald, are you now qualified?” Lydia asked, turning to Ron, “You have the same amount of experience as Harry,”

“No. They offered me some but I said-”

Lydia did not wait for him to complete his answer and rounded on Harry again, “Since you're now fully qualified and are so obviously on the same level as Kingsley Shacklebolt himself, do you want to tell me who the fuck just tried to kill me?”

“There's no point,” Harry said, “We’ve rounded them all up. It's over,”

“I have a right to know if there's some other maniac out to kill us!” Lydia snapped, “I literally died the last time there was a maniac out there to kill us! But I was lucky, I came back...but that's not going to happen this time, is it? If someone kills me or you, we’re done. There are no more loopholes to save us! Love isn't go to save us this time and so I would just like to know if someone is going to try and kill me,”

“There isn't anyone who's trying to kill us!” He said, impatiently. “They’re just people who want to be like the death eaters-”

“Harry James Potter, if you don't tell me every piece of information you know-”

“You'll curse me?” He said, sarcastically.

“No,” Lydia said, “I’d feel like you don't trust me anymore despite everything,”

“Don't try and guilt trip me,” he snapped.

“Harry, things are different now!” Lydia yelled, “we aren't running around the country completely clueless trying to find Horcruxes with no idea whether or not we’ll live to see tomorrow! We have lives now! We have careers! I have a son!” her voice broke at the mention of Teddy, “when that maniac was stood in Teddy’s bedroom, I felt like mum! I felt like mum trying to protect us from Voldemort! He threatened to kill Teddy, Harry. So forgive me for wanting to know whether or not I have to drop everything and become a soldier again!”

“I-” Harry faltered, “I don't know what to tell you,”

“The truth would be a magnificent place to start, mate,”

“They call themselves the Dark Order,” Hermione said, “they are after everyone in this room. They believe we’re the reason that Voldemort is dead,”

“You knew about this and didn't even tell me?” Lydia asked.

“There's a confidentiality protocol in place-”

“I don't know much about law but I think if you're directly affected by the case, you have a right to know,” Lydia said.

Hermione nodded, “No, you're right,”

“I just...” Lydia laughed quietly and shook her head, “you know, all our years at Hogwarts, we had no idea what was going on! Dumbledore constantly left us in the dark! That's why the Horcruxes were so difficult to find, because he told us nothing. And for once in my life, I want to know where I'm going! I want to know what's coming around the corner!”

“If it makes you feel better, Lydia, I knew nothing about this either,” Draco muttered, moodily.

“Bullshit,” Ron snapped.

Lydia jumped and looked over at him, wondering where this sudden hostility towards Draco had come from. In fact, Lydia could not remember the last time that Ron had been so rude to Draco. She had thought that the past had become just that.

“What?” Harry asked.

“How on earth would they know that we’re here?” Ron asked, “the only person who could ever know that is someone who was once a death eater,”

“I was never a true death eater,” Draco said, quickly.

“You took the mark, didn't you? You followed Voldemort blindly, didn't you?” Ron yelled, “You knew what the death eaters did! You knew that and you still joined them! You still joined the people who are the reason that my brother is dead!”

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, “D-don't say that! You know it wasn't him! It was Rook-”

But Ron did not want to hear it. He shoved past Harry and Lydia and was out of the house. Hermione let out a sob and quickly followed him, shouting his name. Lydia glared at Harry, somehow, this was all his fault.

“Don't start,” he snapped, “Wait - Draco!”

Lydia looked over at him just as he Apparated away. Harry swore loudly and then Apparated too. Lydia’s lip trembled and she dropped back down on the couch, putting her head in her hands. George gently put his hand on her back but did not say anything. Lydia wasn’t even sure that she wanted him to say anything.

“I don't understand why he wouldn't tell me,” Lydia whispered, “I don't understand why he wouldn't warn me that this might happen. I need to know if someone's going to kill me,”

“No one's going to kill you, Lydia,” George said, softly, “the Aurors know what they're doing, this time,”

“Funnily enough, I don't have a lot of faith in them,”

Lydia did not sleep well that night. She sat on couch, hugging her knees that were drawn to her chest. She stared blankly ahead of her, her wand held tightly in her fist, just in case. If someone tried to come for them, she would be ready for them. She would not be so cowardly and hold back. At one point, maybe around three A.M, she heard Harry calling for her through the mirror but she didn't want to speak to him. Completely disregarding the fact that everything that Harry had done was probably out of his own trauma and just wanting to protect everyone he could, she stuffed the mirror between the cushions of the couch and thought that maybe she wouldn't mind leaving it behind when they left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Here's a slightl longer chapter to make up for how short the last one was! Also, it's been a minute since I wrote an argument between Lydia and Harry and I'd completely forgot how much I like writing them arguing. 
> 
> Thank-you for all the kudos and I hope you're still enjoying! 
> 
> -E.


	55. Realisation

Lydia refused to let herself retreat back into the person she was in sixth year and stop speaking to Harry, but that did not mean that she wouldn't have liked anything more than to shout at him for a little while longer. But when they saw each other, they did not mention Harry’s job, the honeymoon or the Black Order. They just acted as though it never happened. He and Draco still looked after Teddy when Lydia and George were working and Harry was still coming to the first Quidditch match of the season and he Daily Prophet never cottoned onto the fact that they were not currently the best of friends.

Then again, Lydia was not sure that there was any reporter that was as invasive as Rita Skeeter and she would not be writing anything for a very long time. Hermione had been very gleeful when she had told Lydia that the Ministry were now aware that Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus and had used her ability to find out information about innocent citizens. She had been sentenced to six months in Azkaban and was banned from writing for the Daily Prophet ever again. Lydia had pretended to be very excited about it even though she had never probably never cared less about anything in her whole life.

“Oi, here's your new robes,” Hathers, one of the other Chasers, called over to Lydia, shoving robes into her hands, “Lydia Weasley sounds good,”

Lydia held the robes up to her and sniggered, above the number five, the name Potter had been replaced with the name Weasley.

“I keep on forgetting that I'm a Weasley now,” Lydia told her, “I got a letter addressed to ‘Mrs Weasley,” yesterday and I almost sent it to my mother-in-law. Then I remembered that I'm Mrs Weasley which is why I have a mother-in-law,”

Hathers nodded, “Yeah, I've been married five years and sometimes I get confused when I look down at my hand and I'm like, ‘oh, that's a fancy set of rings...why did I buy myself a fancy set of rings?’ And then my husband will walk in the room and I'm like, oh yeah, that's why I'm wearing a fancy set of rings,”

“I feel like you just don't get enough sleep,”

“Pfft, who sleeps these days, anyway?”

The changing room door banged open and a very anger person in the shape of their Captain, Daniels, stormed over to them. Hathers groaned and tried to pretend that she hadn't noticed him, but he was being so loud that even Lydia couldn't ignore him.

“Are you two going to play Quidditch today or are you just going to sit in here and talk instead?” he snapped, “you're not even dressed!”

“Mate, chill,” Lydia said, “We still have fifteen minutes before it the game starts,”

“We should have won the league last year, but we didn't because-”

“-Meadows fell off his broom,” Hathers said, “you just worry your abnormally large head about catching the Quaffle and everything will be fine,”

“If you keep on telling me I've got a big head, I'll throw you off the team,” he said, “Now, get dressed!”

“He would never throw me off the team,” Hathers sighed, “Though, if he did, I would go straight to the Daily Prophet with many comments about how big his head really is. It's a wonder his broom holds him up,” she pulled her robes over her head and then froze, “Merlin, I hope by son doesn't take after me...I'm really mean,”

Fifteen minutes later, they went and joined the rest of the team in the tunnel that lead onto the pitch. Daniels was pacing up and down the tunnel in a way that told Lydia the best thing to do was ignore him for as long as humanly possible. Instead, she lingered behind the rest of the team and instead threw her broom between one hand and the other.

“Right, team, we’re up,” Daniels shouted to them after the other team, the Wigtown Wanderers, were introduced.

“And now, welcome to the pitch, Puddlemere United!” The commentator, who Lydia had a sneaking suspicion was Ludo Bagman, said, “Daniels, Hathers, Weasley, Frowley, Morgans, Fletchely aaaaand Meadows!”

Now that she felt as though she had settled into the team nicely, Lydia had gotten used to the vast crowds that swarmed to watch Quidditch matches. She would never forget the first time she had stepped onto a professional Quidditch pitch, looked around and realised how small the Quidditch stadium at Hogwarts was and spent a good five minutes wondering why that had ever made her nervous.

A year into her career, however, she barely took any notice of anyone in the crowds. Even those who shouted horrible things at her just because she was playing on the opposite team. But, as they took their first lap around the stadium to get into position, Lydia found herself getting nervous. Her hands slipped on her broom and she almost crashed into the goalposts as she was too busy looking into the crowd. Up until that exact moment, she had not considered the fact that anyone from the Dark Order could be watching her from the stands. They might even be trying to get to George and the others, they were somewhere in the stands. Lydia's hand went to her hair and she remembered that he wand was buried somewhere under her pile of clothes in the changing rooms.

The whistle blowing brough Lydia back reality and she raced to join Hathers and Frowley in the middle of the pitch. Hathers threw her the Quaffle and she tucked it under her arm, swerving out of the way of a Bludger and throwing the Quaffle to Frowley. Though, the throw didn't go quite as well Lydia thought it would and it fell short of Frowley’s outstretched hands. There was a groan from the Puddlemere United supports as the Quaffle fell into the hands of one of the Chasers from the Wigtown Wanderers.

“Girl, the fuck is wrong with you?” Hathers yelled, zooming past her.

“You have no idea...” Lydia whispered, ducking out of the way of another Bludger and managing to intercept a pass from the other team and following Hathers and Daniel down the pitch.

“Here!” Frowley called.

Lydia threw the Quaffle and took the Bludger for him. It hit her in the side and she jerked sideways, almost sliding off her broom. There was a small gasp from those of who were paying her any attention and there was a moment when Lydia wondered if falling off her broom would be the worst thing that could come out of that day. She pulled herself upright and looked over just as Daniels scored the first goal of the match.

“And that's ten points for Puddlemere United!” Ludo Bagman announced, “Lydia Po- Lydia Weasley, sorry, intercepts a throw from Merow and - ah, that's a Bludger to a back that she definitely could have avoided,”

“Piss off, Bagman,” Lydia muttered, keeping hold of the Quaffle despite the fact that she felt as though her spine was breaking with every mood she made. “Hathers!” When she threw the Quaffle this time, it was an actual throw and Hathers caught it easily.

Lydia swerved out of the way of a Beater and caught the Quaffle that Daniels through her. She ducked underneath another Bludger and finally made it closer to the Goalposts. Her heart beating out of control and almost flattened against her broom trying to pick up as much speed as she could, she threw the Quaffle and instead of soaring through one of the hoops as she envisioned it, it went straight into the hands of the Keeper.

“Ah, bad luck, Weasley, bad luck,” Ludo sighed, “And Wigtown are back in possession...”

The game only got worse from there on out. It was as though Lydia had never played a game of Quidditch in her life. There was a moment, after she dropped the Quaffle for what felt like the hundredth time, that Lydia realised that Hermione had played better than her when they had played that game of Quidditch on the honeymoon. And, when Lydia got hit by Bludger number thirty two of the game, she was reminded of that other terrible game of Quidditch she played in eighth year. At least there wasn't as many people watching at Hogwarts.

No matter how hard she tried, she could not force herself to just focus on Quidditch. The Dark Order constantly played on her mind and whenever she caught sight of someone wearing dark robes in the crowd, her heart would do a somersault in her chest and she would think they were coming for her. The worst moment of the game came when she flew back where George was sat with the others and saw someone wearing black moving towards Ron. She almost flew straight into them when she realised that it was only one of the stadium staff walking passed him, and not someone trying to kill him.

It was a great relief when the referee finally blew the whistle and Lydia could get back to the ground. She had not scored once and was doing her best to not feel terrible about it. No one ever played brilliantly the first match of the season, but no one ever played as badly as Lydia had just done. Still, Meadows had caught the Snitch so that at least gave her something to smile about.

“What just happened?” Hathers demanded once they were alone in the changing rooms, “I've never seen you play like that!”

“It's just a bad game,” Lydia said, “We all have them,”

“Weasley, don't take this the wrong way, but that is the single worst game of Quidditch I've ever seen played,”

She sighed and dropped down onto the bench, “I keep on thinking everyone is trying to kill me and everyone I love. I can't seem to get it into my head that no one is trying to kill me anyway,”

Hathers looked taken aback. It was the first time that Lydia had ever spoke about the war or anything that had happened in her life in front of her. It had become an unspoken team within the team that no one asked Lydia about anything that happened in the war. Out of the seven of them, she was the only one who had fought in it and the last thing she wanted to do was be questioned by people who didn't really have any idea what it was like.

“Never mind,” Lydia said, waving her hand, “you don't want to hear me talk about the war...I’ll be fine, Hathers, I always am,”

Hathers didn't look convinced but let it slide. Lydia hurriedly changed back into her normal clothes and ran out back where George was waiting with Teddy, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco. Since she had started playing Quidditch, they had all become very good at being able to adopt a suitable facial expression relating to how the game had gone. Lydia thought that they might have gone overboard now though because they all looked like they were about to go to funeral. Although, Lydia reflected, they could soon be going to the funeral of her Quidditch career.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Lydia said, quickly, “I would just like to pretend it didn't happen,”

“Ginny got accepted to the Harpies,” George said, as a way to alleviate the tension, “So...that's something to look forward to,”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “I mean, she is my sister-in-law so they’ll probably be one million and one articles written about us in an attempt to turn us against each other but...no, it should be fun,”

“I thought you wanted to switch teams at the end of this season, anyway?” Harry asked.

Lydia shrugged, “Providing someone wants to take me on-”

“It's one bad game, Lyds,” Ron said, “you won't get ostracized for dropping the Quaffle once or twice,”

“Aunt Lydia!” Teddy shouted, holding his arms out to her, “Can we go broom?”

Lydia smiled at him and took him in her arms. Harry had bought him a toy broomstick, rather like the one Sirius had bought for them when they were babies, and since then, Teddy had become quite obsessed with it. Whenever he came to watch Lydia play a game of Quidditch, he immediately decided that he wanted to fly around the flat for the next week. It was nice to know that Teddy would always think that she was an incredible player, no matter how terrible she was sometimes.

“Yes, we can,” Lydia said. She glanced over at George, “Did we pack everything valuable away?”

“I don't think we have anything valuable,” George said, frowning. “Should we have like...vases? Or...plants? I don't know. I'm sure it's fine,”

“I don't understand how you two have loads of money but your flat is a mess,” Ron sighed.

“Money can't buy taste,” Draco said, “that's what my mother always says,”

“That's true,” Harry said, “because the Malfoys have peacocks,”

Lydia tried to stay in a good mood when they went back to Harry and Draco's flat for drinks, but she couldn't help but think that this could really be the end of her Quidditch career. Hathers was right, that really was the worst game of Quidditch that had ever been played. She felt completely helpless because there was really nothing she could do if they decided to kick her off the team. There was always quitting before they fired her in an attempt to preserve some of her pride but that idea was laughable. There was far too much at stake; she needed a job so that they could move into a bigger house and raise Teddy and, if she stayed put it one place, then the Dark Order would be able to find her easily and that was enough to send her into a spiral of anxiety. 

Maybe she really did need to go to therapy. 

\---

“Don't read that,” George said, snatching the newspapers out of her hands.

“Hey! We’re meant to be teaching Teddy not to snatch,” Lydia said, trying to grab it back from him.

“He isn't watching,” George said, “he’s too busy being amazed with that broomstick,”

Lydia glanced around him and smiled at the sight of Teddy slowly floating around the room on his tiny broom. Mr and Mrs Weasley had come to visit and were sat on the couch, keeping a very close eye on him. Whilst George was distracted by Teddy being annoyingly cute, Lydia yanked the newspaper out of his hands and hurried back over to the living room.

“You really shouldn't read that, dear,” Mr Weasley told her, “It's just that awful sports journalists going on with himself again,”

“If he splatters my face across the front page of the Daily Prophet and tells me that I'm a disgrace to the ‘coveted game of Quidditch’ in the headline then I deserve to know how I'm a disgrace,” Lydia shrugged, “I'd end up finding out about it in the end, anyway. People love to quote articles at me when I'm walking down the street. Especially rude ones,”

George leaned over the back of her chair and took the paper out of her hands again.

“I’ll read it to you,” he said, clearing his throat, “ _Lydia Weasley, married to the devilishly handsome George Weasley, is not at all a disgrace to the coveted game of Quidditch and everything I wrote in the headline is a lie. She is actually a fantastic player and all that happened was that she had a bad day, as we all do, and I'm sure that by the next match, she’ll be back to her usual standard and blow us all away_ ,”

“It's strange that a sports journalist would mention how handsome a players husband is, don't you think?” Lydia asked, still trying to grab the paper despite the fact that George was holding it above his head.

“No, actually, because when someone's husband is just that attractive, it has to be mentioned,” he grinned at her and threw the paper away from them, “Seriously, don't read it. There's no point in making yourself upset over it. Just focus on the next game Onwards and upwards,”

“Honestly, Lydia, you really shouldn't read it. It's not worth it,” Mrs Weasley said, “We’ve all had bad days,”

“We haven't all had bad days in a stadium in front of thousands of people,” Lydia pointed out.

“Having a bad day in a stadium front of thousands of people is basically getting really drunk at a Weasley family gathering,” George said.

Someone quite frantically knocking on the door saved Lydia from having to answer George. Almost tripping over Teddy, Lydia walked to the front door and opened it, revealing a beaming Ron and Hermione.

“Hello-”

“Are mum and dad here?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Lydia said, “but, why? Is everything-”

They both shoved past her and hurried into the flat, leaving Lydia stood alone at the front door.

“Yes, lovely to see you both, too,” she muttered to herself, closing the door, “No, it's absolutely fine that you didn't call ahead to make sure that we weren't about to leave. We could be going to meet the bloody Queen of England but who cares about what we do on our days off?”

Mrs Weasley shrieked and Lydia quickly hurried back into the living room. George was laughing hysterically whilst hugging Ron, Hermione was jumping up and down on the spot and Mr Weasley was wiping tears from his eyes. Lydia stood on the threshold of the room, her eyebrows raised and trying to work out what was going on.

When Hermione saw her, she bounded over to her and threw her arms around her neck. Lydia yelped and staggered backwards slightly, awkwardly patting Hermione on the back and wondering why on earth she was acting as though they hadn't seen each other for years.

“I'm confused,” Lydia announced to the room at large.

Hermione just squealed and jumped back from her, waving her hand in her face. A ring sat there.

“Oh, that's a nice ring, Hermione,” Lydia said, admiring it.

“Have you had too many Bludgers to the head?” Ron asked.

“What?” Lydia said, “it is a nice ring, just because you have no taste!”

“Ron picked out the ring, Lyds,” Hermione beamed.

“Ron picked out the - Merlin! No way! Are you-?”

“Yes!” Hermione exclaimed.

Lydia screamed and hugged Hermione again, “You’re going to be a Weasley! You're going to be a Weasley!”

“I'm going to be a Weasley!” Hermione yelled.

“We’re going to be _sisters_ ,” Lydia gasped, feeling like all her eleven year olds self dreams were coming true.

Ron and Hermione getting engaged made Lydia realise that she and George’s engagement had probably been the strangest thing in the world. When Lydia lay in bed the night before their engagement party, she held her hand above her face and stared at her engagement and wedding ring. They weren't even properly engaged at first, it was just a promise that it would happen should they both live through the war. And now, Ron and Hermione would be able to get engaged without the fear that one of them might die in a war. It made the war and everything that came after it worth it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading, I hope you're still enjoying this! 
> 
> Also, I planned out the ending today so we're so close to the end of it all!! 
> 
> -E.


	56. Back to the Courtroom

Lydia was paranoid, even more so than usual. When Lord Voldemort had returned, she had spent the majority of her school year looking over her shoulder, expecting to see Lord Voldemort step out from behind a suit of armour and kill her. Now, she was expecting someone from the Dark Order to try and murder her. The only way that Lydia could think to battle this was to keep her wand on her at all times, which proved to be quite a difficult task during Quidditch matches. The only place she could think to keep it was in her boot, but it was extremely uncomfortable.

“Have a good game,” Daniels said to them before kicking off the ground. Lydia felt as though he was talking to her more than anyone else, and she resisted the urge to tell him that she probably wouldn't have a good game. Instead, she just stayed silent and got on her broom, flying away from him before she said something sarcastic.

Ludo Bagman's voice rang across the stadium as the Tutshill Tornados flew onto the pitch. They were the team who had beaten them to the league the previous year and Daniels had yet to let that go. Lydia had just been happy to be in the semi-finals but did not mention this to Daniels after the game had ended; unlike her sixteen year old self, Lydia was actively trying to avoid pissing her Quidditch captain off. Pissing off Urquhart was a lot more fun - she had been able to curse him without getting into trouble.

All Lydia wanted to focus on was winning the game. Daphne and Urquhart had surprised her by coming to see her play along with Neville. Embarrassing herself in front of thousands of people was something that Lydia was learning to deal with, but embarrassing herself in front of her friends was something that she would probably never be able to deal with. Then again, Lydia thought to herself, the fact that Harry wasn't there was a positive - at least she wouldn't have to embarrass herself in front of him if they lost.

The whistle blew and Lydia sprang into action. Hathers threw the Quaffle to her and she caught it, ducking underneath a Bludger sent her way and reverse passing the Quaffle to Frowley. Lydia yelped and had to quickly carry out the Sloth Grip Roll as a Bludger came hurtling towards her. Groaning, she pulled herself upright and hastily threw up her hands as Frowley threw the Quaffle back to her. Tucking it under her arm, she took off down the pitch, trying to ignore Ludo Bagman and his annoying commentary, but it was very difficult to do so.

“And that's Puddlemere United Chaser Lydia Weasley with the Quaffle!” Ludo said, “she's only got to get past the Keeper now, hopefully it'll be an improvement on her last performance,”

“I would love to punch you, Mr Bagman,” Lydia muttered, throwing the Quaffle.

“Aaaaand...SHE’S SCORED!” Bagman yelled, “that's ten points to Puddlemere United!” He paused for a moment to allow for the Puddlemere supporters to celebrate, “and that's the Tornados back in possession,”

The game progressed and, as it did so, Lydia came to the realisation that they were winning. It was a nice feeling, but she felt like getting excited about it would only end in disaster. Most things usually did end in disaster where she was concerned. Frowley dropped the Quaffle to her and Lydia waved in and out of the Tornados Chasers and passed to Hathers, who zoomed off down the pitch at once.

The whistle blew and Lydia landed back on the ground, rushing over to where the rest of the team were huddled. Frowley was nursing a broken hand and Meadows was being treated by some Medi-Wizards. Lydia could never understand why the Tornados got so vicious when they were losing. It was a very strange quality to have considering every Quidditch game had to end with a winner and a loser.

“The Tornados called for a timeout,” Daniels told them, “We're doing well though,”

“Are we?” Frowley snapped, holding up his arm, “How do you expect me to catch a Quaffle when my hand is like this?”

“Use your other hand, maybe?” Hathers suggested, “you do have two,”

“You're not funny,” Frowley said.

“No, I'm able to use my initiative,” Hathers said, “unlike you,”

Before a Medi-Wizard could come and help Frowley, the referee blew the whistle again and they were back in the air. Lydia did feel sorry for Frowley; playing a match with only one arm did not seem like the cleverest of ideas, but there was very little that they could do about it apart from try and take as many Bludgers for him as possible. After what felt like the hundredth time of being hit by a Bludger, Lydia was quite amazed that every bone in her body had not been broken, but the Snitch had not been seen yet so Lydia supposed that there was enough time for that to happen.

“I think that Meadows has spotted the Snitch!” Bagman said suddenly. Lydia whirled around just as Meadows pulled off a steep dive with the Torndaos Seeker closer behind him, but the cheers of encouragement from the stands quickly turned into screams of terror, “What is-”

Lydia screamed just as a jet of green light skimmed past her. The breath rushed out of her and she was suddenly back in the Forest. She could hear the twigs snapping under her feet as she walked towards Voldemort, only calmed by the soft glow of the family. Lydia held her head high and met Voldemort's eyes, her scar burning so much that she was sure her head might split in half.

“WEASLEY! MOVE!” Hathers screamed, grabbing her broomstick and pulling her to the ground. They landed on the ground without an ounce of grace and Lydia rolled off her broom. Hands wrapped around her arms and dragged her upwards.

Heart in her mouth, Lydia spun around and came face to face with someone wearing dark hooded robes. She screamed and scrambled away from him, but that only made him laugh. It was the same person that Lydia had come face to face with on the Honeymoon. Automatically, Lydia turned away from him and looked up into the stands. It was pandemonium as people pushed past each other trying to escape. All she could do was hope that George had managed to get away with Teddy and that the others were OK.

“Don't worry,” he said, “We’ll find your family and friends. We might even have a little kiss for them,”

“Have a little-?”

Lydia felt a chill unlike any other suddenly wash over her. The sounds of the Battle of Hogwarts suddenly echoed around her mind, overlapped with the sounds of George and Hermione screaming as Bellatrix them at Malfoy Manor, all whilst Voldemort laughed as her mother plead for mercy. She gasped and stumbled slightly, squeezing her eyes shut at the sight of the Dementors circling above them.

“No - no!” Lydia gasped, holding her wand up with a shaking arm, “Expecto - Ex- Expecto Patro - Expecto -” nothing was happening.

“Lydia, Lydia, Lydia...” The man sighed, “there's nothing to worry about. You won't realise what's happening when it does,”

She tried to block out what he was saying and was of using on everything that had ever made her happy. Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Teddy, Mum, Dad, Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Teddy, Mum, Dad, scoring the winning goal, Teddy laughing, George laughing, Harry being happy with Draco-

“Expecto Patronum!” Lydia yelled, and still nothing happened.

There were more screams as spectators spilled onto the pitch, desperate to help. The man laughed and advanced on her again, but the stadium was starting to spin and Lydia could not quite see where he was. Her wand was suddenly nothing more than a thin piece of wood that would not get her out of anything.

“Do you think Teddy will cry when the Dementors get to him?” He asked, “does he cry a lot? I've never had kids I don't know how-”

“Sectumsempra!” Lydia yelled, without thinking.

“Lyds - oh, Merlin!” Harry appeared next to her, wearing his Auror robes, “W-what did you do?”

“Do what is necessary,” Lydia whispered, “that's what they told us,”

Harry whirled around her and shot a curse over her head, “Oi! Grendall! Get my sister!”

Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her away from Harry. She tripped up as she walked into the tunnel and fell into Draco who was wearing his work robes. He was speaking to her, but his voice sounded as though he was miles away from her. She did not even realise that she was in the changing rooms until Draco crouched down in front of her and began shining a light in her eyes.

The changing room doors burst open and Lydia jumped up, her wand drawn, but it was only George and Teddy. Draco slowly took the wand out of her hand and sat her back down. Immediately, George sat down next to her and put Teddy in her lap. At once, Lydia held Teddy closer to her and kissed the top of his head, deciding that she would never let him out of her sight again.

“Is anyone hurt?” Lydia asked.

“No one we know,” George told her, “only a couple of Aurors - not Harry or Ron, though,” he added.

Lydia groaned and closed her eyes, “Sectumsempra,”

Draco paused in the act of mending a cut on her eye, “Pardon?”

“I used Sectumsempra,” she whispered, “Why did I use Sectumsempra?”

“Don't worry about it,” Draco said, “it's not a big deal. No one will have noticed,”

At this, the door burst open and Harry stormed in followed by Ron and an Auror that Lydia didn't know. Though, Lydia didn't think that she wanted to know him; he didn't seem like the nicest person around. He was glaring at Lyia and said something to Ron that made him shove him and say, “leave it!”. Hermione walked in moments after, wringing her hands together and looking quite stressed.

“What's going on?” George asked, “you said that the Dark Order had all been arrested,”

Harry paused and looked suddenly guilty, “I might have stretched the truth-”

“He lied,” Hermione said.

“Harry, you need to start telling me the truth!” Lydia snapped, “I need to know if someone's trying to kill me or not!”

“Does it really matter?” The Auror asked, “You'll just kill them anyway,”

“Shut up, Grendall,” Hermione hissed.

“You’re not my boss,” he growled.

“No, but I’m overseeing this investigation and you report to me,” Hermione said, drawing herself up to her full height, “so, I’ll tell you again, shut it,”

“Lydia,” Harry said, turning to her, “what happened?”

“I don't know. I nearly got hit by a Killing Curse and then I was back in the forest and then that man...that same man from the Honeymoon...” Lydia trailed off, “I couldn't...I couldn't cast a Patronus charm,”

“But you could do a bit of Dark Magic?” Grendall muttered.

“Shut up!” Hermione yelled.

Lydia quickly handed Teddy back to George and leapt up, turning her back on everyone. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regulate her breathing. She knew where this conversation was going and she would much rather not been apart of it; if they were going to discuss whether or not Lydia was about to kill them all, she would much rather them do it whilst she was as far away from them as possible.

“Forget that,” Harry said, quickly, “I'm more interested in everything else. The Dementors, the Dark Order...the fact that they have control of the Dementors-”

“How do we know she doesn't have control of the-”

“Fuck off, Grendall,” Harry snapped, “this is just old and boring,”

“I need to go back to the Ministry and file a report,” Hermione said, suddenly, “Grendall, come with me,” There was a few moments of silence as they left.

Ron finally broke the silence, “So, Mr Auror, what's the plan?”

“There isn't one,” Harry said.

“My favourite kind,” Ron sighed.

“I think we should just go back to the Ministry and work something out,” Harry said, “we’ve got people rounded up outside anyway and then-”

“Why did you lie to me again?” Lydia asked, turning around to face Harry.

“Lyds,” Harry sighed, “Do we have to do this now?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, “why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me that we were still in danger? You know that I'm always in the public eye! You know that people can find me easily!”

“But then if I told you, you'd just panic and then get distracted from what you're meant to be doing!” Harry exclaimed, “when have you ever done well under pressure?”

Lydia swore at him and turned her back on him. She could never put into words how infuriating Harry could be sometimes. George walked over to her and put his hand on the small of her back.

“Hey, maybe we should just go home,” he whispered, “And sort it out tomorrow, OK?”

“Wait, I want to see the team first, make sure they're OK,”

When she eventually found the rest of the team all sat in the canteen, they were all very quick to dismiss Lydia's apology. No one blamed her for anything and, as Daniels pointed out, nothing terrible had happened and Meadows had caught the Snitch before anything had happened.

“So, we actually won the game,”

“Not the most important thing right now,” Hathers muttered.

\---

The room was horribly bright. It took a few moments for Lydia's eyes to properly adjust to her surroundings, and her heart dropped to her stomach when she realised where she was. She was back in the Courtroom, bound by chains to the chair. Deep down, Lydia knew that this was nothing but a nightmare, but she could not listen to that part of herself. She could only focus on what was happening now.

“Trial on the twenty fifth of November, two thousand. Interrogator: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,”

“Professor Dumbledore! No-”

“Lydia Lily Weasley, you stand accused of the abuse of Edward Remus Lupin, endangering the lives of those around you and the practice of Dark Magic,” Dumbledore continued.

“A-abuse?” Lydia whispered, “N-no! No! I've never hurt Teddy! I would never hurt Teddy! George! George! Tell him!”

George was sat in the front row of the stands, shaking his head at her. “Don't be ridiculous, Lydia. You're a terrible parent. You don't love him. You don't treat him like you should. You're just doing everything that Vernon Dursley would have done,”

Tears were streaming down her face before she could stop them, “No! Georgie, you know that's not true...you know it's not true,”

He shook his head at her again and then took his wedding ring off his finger, dropping it to the floor. The sound of it clattering to the floor echoed around the room, bringing physical pain to Lydia. It was as though he had physically hurt her.

Dumbledore glared down at Lydia for a while and then turned to his side. Lydia looked over and saw her teammates. None of them were smiling at her and they did not at all look as though trusted her at all. Hathers could not even look her in the eye. Lydia felt like throwing up.

“What is she like as a teammate?” Dumbledore asked.

Daniels cleared his throat, “Terrible. She's an awful player and has no sense of teamwork. How she ever got onto the team is beyond me,”

“You fought for me to get onto the team!” Lydia exclaimed.

“Hathers, you’re the only other female on this team-”

“I wish I was the only one,” Hathers said, scathingly, “Lydia does nothing but bring the team down, but she's a Dark Witch, isn't she? I don't know what we were expecting, really,”

“Stop it,” Lydia whispered, feeling a panic attack beginning to start, “S-stop it! That's not tr-true! This isn't real...this isn't real...this isn't real...”

“You know what is real?” Another voice asked.

Lydia turned around to find Harry, and she felt her heart break. This was always the worst part of the nightmare. This was always the part that pushed her over the edge. The part that echoed around her mind for days afterwards.

“How terrible of a sister you are,” Harry spat, “All you ever do is pick arguments. Have you ever congratulated me for being an Auror? Have you ever been genuinely happy for me?”

“Yes!” Lydia exclaimed, “Yes, Harry, you know I have! I'm so proud of you! Y-you know that!”

“You're a terrible sister, Potty, deal with it,” drawled the cold voice of Draco Malfoy. It had been a long time since Lydia had heard him speak like that, and she had forgotten how much she hated it.

“Merlin, and to think that you would ever be able to have a normal life? That you'd be a good wife? A good parent? A good Quidditch player? Honestly, everyone hates you. You must know this. You're a danger to everyone around you. You bring danger everywhere you go. We’d be better off without you,” Hermione snapped, whilst Ron nodded along with her. “And you really think I want you to be with me at my wedding? You're everything I stand against! You probably call me a Mudblood behind my back,”

“No, no, no, no...” Lydia whispered, “this isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real,”

“That's true, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said, knowingly, “should we take it to a vote? All in favour of the death penalty?”

As always, every hand went up and Lydia's scar began to burn. Lord Voldemort walked into the room and all she could do was scream.

“Lyds! Lyds!”

Her eyes opened and she scrambled up. George was stood in the doorway, holding his arms out to her. She screamed again and backed against the wall, her heart hammering out of control. Her eyes scanned the room and she could not see Voldemort, but she could not see her wand either - if he was in the other room, she would not be able to defend herself.

“Lyds,” George said, speaking softly, “You’re OK,” he slowly walked towards her, “it was only a nightmare. It wasn't real,”

Lydia looked up at him and grabbed his left hand; his wedding ring was still there. Of course his wedding ring was still there. That dream was not real, George had never said anything that was said in the dream. At once, she burst into her tears and George wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair as she sobbed.

“I'm not a bad parent to Teddy am I?” Lydia asked through sobs.

“You’re not the Dursleys,” George said, “You know you're not. Teddy is happy,”

Once Lydia had stopped crying, George began to make her breakfast. Teddy was sat next to her on the couch, talking to Draco through the mirror. Lydia glanced into the mirror ad almost flinched when she saw Draco, before reminding herself that nothing in that dream had been true.

“Um, Lydia, is that the Daily Prophet?” Draco asked as she picked it up.

“Yeah, why? What's up- ah,”

“LYDIA WEASLEY WRAPPED UP IN MORE DARK MAGIC CONTROVERSY

The Girl who Lived has always been the controversial Potter twin. Sorted into Slytherin house at the age of eleven, darkness seemed to follow Lydia through her time at Hogwarts. It is no secret that Lydia was never been afraid to use Dark Magic during the war. Although the majority of us reading this are dead set against the use of Dark Magic, but even we could look past it. After all, she did, along with her brother, save the Wizarding World from Lord Voldemort.

After the war, however, should she still be using Dark Magic? Last week, at the Puddlemere United and Tutshill Tornados Quidditch match, a group calling themselves ‘the Dark Order,’ attacked the stadium. Always the hero, Lydia tried to ward of a horde of Dementors but was unable to do so, and so turned to a Dark Spell that she has been know to use before. Whether or not-”

Lydia could not read any more. She threw the paper to the side and sank back into the couch. George sighed and handed her a cup of tea, picking Teddy up and moving him so that he could sit down.

“I don't know why you still read all that rubbish,” Draco said, “It's all a load of-”

“Truth,” Lydia interrupted, “I am wrapped up in controversy and I was unable to cast a Patronus,”

“You panicked and you cast the first spell you thought of,” George said, “you don't need to worry about what anyone thinks of you,”

“You're probably right...” Lydia muttered, taking a sip of her tea.

Maybe Therapy wasn't a terrible idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading, I hope you're stil enjoying this!! 
> 
> -E.


	57. Compassionate Leave

Compassionate leave was perhaps the most patronising thing that Lydia could imagine. It was also one of the most embarrassing things that could have happened. There was nothing quite like arriving at Quidditch practice only to be told by the coach that she had to take the next four weeks off, which would mean missing a game, something she had yet to do. No matter how much she argued, the coach would not are it and so she went back home.

“Where’ve you been?” George asked, opening the shop up for the day.

“Where do you think I've been?” Lydia said.

“I have no idea, that's why I’m asking,”

Lydia frowned at him and became suddenly worried that the stress of running a business on his own might have finally got to him. She kept on telling him to get Lee to help out, but according to him, Lee was very happy continuing to run Potterwatch.

“Quidditch practice,” Lydia said, “Where else would I be?”

This time, it was George's turn to frown at her.

“I thought Harry told you. He told them to give you compassionate leave,”

“You knew?” She thundered.

“Harry floo’d last night after you went to bed and then said he'd told you,” George said, “I just thought-” he froze, “Oh, no, I've just started an argument haven't I?”

“I am going to....I am going to....I am going to...” She couldn't quite find the right thing to say, “I am going to fling him into the sun!” She exclaimed, finally. George raised his eyebrows at her, “Compassionate leave? Compassionate leave? Am I the kind of person who needs compassionate leave? I don't need compassion! I need to win the league! Jesus Christ on a bike, I'm going to murder him,”

“Jesus Christ on a bike?” George repeated, looking amused.

“Muggle expression,” she said, “see! That's how angry I am! I'm turning into a Muggle!”

“Babe, calm down,” George said, flicking his wand at the door so that the sign showed ‘closed’ again, “He's just doing it because he thinks it's what's best for you and maybe he's-”

“One of these days,” Lydia said, “I'm going to be able to decide what's right for me,” she glanced at the clock on the wall, “Harry and Draco are babysitting Teddy, aren't they?”

“Yeah, but-”

“I'm going to go and speak to him,” she said, picking her bag off the floor again, “Compassionate leave. Honestly,”

A very confused Draco Malfoy holding Teddy answered the door after Lydia banged on it. Since he had started coming to watch her play Quidditch, Teddy had developed a habit of cheering every time he saw Lydia, and it took them a while to shut him up.

“Where were you this morning, George was-”

“Quidditch practice,” Lydia snapped, “I was at Quidditch practice for all of three minutes,”

“Quidditch - oh,” Draco said, his pale eyes going wide, “oh. He didn't tell you,”

“No!” Lydia raged, “He didn't tell me! Did everyone know apart from me?”

“Possibly,” Draco said, “Hey-where are you going?” he asked as she jumped up.

“To wake my dickhead of a brother up and fling him into the-”

“He's not in bed,” Draco said, “he got called into work this morning,”

“I'm going to the Ministry then,” Lydia said, rushing past Draco and grabbing her back. She turned back to Teddy and kissed him on the cheek, “Be nice to your cousin, Ted,”

“I'm his favourite cousin,” Draco said, proudly.

“You're his only cousin,”

Draco ignored her, “And you’re Harry's only twin. Don't mess up your relationship. I'll be the first to say he's got the common sense of a flobberworm at times, but he’s just trying to protect you,”

“I can protect myself,” Lydia said, more harshly than she wanted to.

The last time Lydia had been to the Ministry of Magic was when she had been put on trial by Adeline Scrimgeour, just after the war. The hairs on her arms stood on end when she walked into the auditorium, she associated far too many bad memories with this place and she could not understand how Harry, Ron or Hermione could work here. As Lydia registered her wand with the man on the front desk, she couldn't help but glance to her left and right; Yaxley could come out of one of the fireplaces at any moment, and Dolores Umbridge was probably below her in the courtroom, surrounded by Dementors.

“Oh, hello, Lydia,”

She whirled around and came face to face with Bill. It was only when she saw him that she remembered that the war was long behind the and that neither Yaxley nor Dolores Umbridge were anywhere near them. Smiling, Lydia took her wand back and shoved it in her hair.

“What are you doing here?” Lydia asked.

He made a face, “got a meeting with the magical creatures department. Apparently, they're worried that the Goblins were working with Voldemort all along and that they're going to turn to the side of the Dark Order,”

“But, Goblins don't take sides in-”

“Wizarding conflicts, I know,” Bill sighed, “I know that, you know that, anyone with half a brain knows that, but they want to know what they're like to work with,” he rolled his eyes, “Hermione's up in arms about it because she thinks it's discriminatory to think that anyone who isn't a Wizard is going to kill anyone who is. And she's probably right, actually, so if you see her, don't mention Goblins,”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Lydia muttered.

“Why are you here? Aren't you meant to be at Quidditch?”

“Oh!” Lydia exclaimed, “Did Harry not tell you? Because he didn't tell me! I'm on compassionate leave!”

Bill looked as though he wasn't sure how to reply to this and pretended to get distracted by looking for something in his robes. Finally, he turned to look at her again.

“He's just protective of you,” Bill said, “You're protective of each other. Do you know how often Ron came home from Hogwarts with stories about how you were both constantly cursing people who said something horrible about the other? I mean...that story about the leg-locker curse in your first year....you sent a seventh year to the Hospital Wing for two weeks! And you were never found out!”

“Yeah, well, what seventeen year old bullies an eleven year old?” Lydia raged as they got in the lift, “but that's not the point! The point is is that he's made a decision about my career without consulting me about it! I don't need compassionate leave,”

“Just don't get too angry with him,” Bill said, as he got out on his floor, “You’ll only regret it. See you,”

When the lift got to the Auror offices, Lydia wasted no time in jumping out of it and looking around. The offices were the most packed that Lydia had ever seen them and she wasn't entirely sure she would ever find him. The closest she could find to Harry, was Ron, stood leaning against the wall of one of the cubicles and talking to someone. When he caught sight of her, he raised his eyebrows slightly and quickly hurried over to her.

“You ever heard of this thing called a bad time?”

“Has your best mate ever heard of a thing called talking to his sister?” Lydia snapped.

“From what I'm sensing from your tone, by best mate is in a lot of trouble and I would like to remind you that I'm not him so please don't shout at me,”

“Did you know I was on compassionate leave?” Lydia asked.

“Yes, Harry said he'd discussed it with you but now i feel like he didn't and that's a dick move,”

Lydia groaned so loudly that several people looked around in alarm. Ron waved them away and glanced around the office, “He's not here. I think he went to speak to Hermione. Her office is at the very end. Knock, or she’ll curse you,” he added in a way that told her that Ron had been on the receiving end of one of Hermione's curses in recent months.

“Thank-you!” Lydia called over her shoulder, rushing to Hermione's office.

“Don't run!” Ron called to her, “it panics people here,”

Lydia couldn't care less.

Completely forgetting about what Ron had said to her, Lydia burst straight through the door and had to duck under a spell. Immediately regretting what she had done and making a mental note to listen to Ron more, Lydia straightened up and held up her hands.

“Hey! It's only me,”

“Sorry!” Hermione groaned, sitting back down and dropping her wand to her desk, “this place still terrifies me...Umbridge, Yaxley, well....you know,”

“I do know,” Lydia agreed, sitting at the chair in front of Hermione's desk, “did you know about-”

“Compassionate leave?” Hermione interrupted, “I assumed that was what you were all angry about. He didn't tell you, did he?”

“No! He didn't!” Lydia exclaimed, “where is he?”

Hermione glanced at her watch, “I would have thought he'd back in his cubicle...oh, no, he had a meeting with Adeline Scrimgeour about the Dark Order, that's where he is,”

“Great,” Lydia said, jumping up, “See you later, ‘Mione!”

After this, it did not take long for her to find Harry for the very simple reason that she walked straight into him and knocked him to the ground. His expression changed so quickly upon seeing her that it might have been amusing under anywhere circumstance. At first, he looked very angry, then smiled when he saw it was Lydia but then his smile melted away and was replaced with a look of fear. He clambered up and smiled sheepishly at her.

“You’re - you're working at the Ministry now?”

“Stop trying to make a joke out of this, I'm not in the mood,” Lydia snapped.

“Alright, alright,” he said, quietly, “You're pissed off, I get it, but can we not do this here? People are staring,”

“God forbid people think that you're a dickhead!” Lydia exclaimed.

“Go in my office,” Hermione said, walking up behind them, “I need to go and see the Magical Beasts department, they're being quite horrible to Goblins, you know!”

The mention of Goblins made Lydia and Harry walk very quickly to Hermione's office just so they could get away from her. As much as she loved her, Lydia was not in the mood to sit around and listen to Hermione go on with herself for hours on end. There was a time and a place, and it was not now.

“I'm not even going to get pissed off at you for shouting at me,” Harry said, shutting the door behind him, “I know I'm a bit of a dickehad at times,”

“A bit of a dickhead, Harry?” Lydia scoffed, “For the love of God, you made a decision about my career without even asking! Do you know how out of the loop I'm going to be, now? And do you have any idea how this is going to look to the press? They already think I'm two years away from taking Lord Voldemort's place, now they’re going to think that I’m tapped in the head or something!”

Harry sighed and leant back against the desk, his arms folded, “I really am sorry. I didn't think about it. I panicked. Lyds, I'm just terrified of losing you. Being an Auror and going after Dark Wizards again, it's bringing everything back, you know?” tears sprang to his eyes, “I don't want to see your dead body again,”

“Have you considered compassionate leave?” Lydia said, scathingly, “I can go and speak to your boss if you want,”

“Fucking hell, Lydia, how often do you want me to apologise?” He exclaimed, “I'm just trying to-”

“If you say you're trying to protect me, I'm going to punch you so hard,” Lydia snapped, but then her voice softened, “why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you speak to me about it? Why do you never tell me anything, anymore, H? I feel like I’m always the last one to find things out,”

“After everything that happened in the war...” He trailed off.

“Do you not think that I can handle myself?” Lydia asked, “after everything I did? After everything we did? If I can walk into a forest and let Lord Voldemort kill me, I'm pretty sure I can handle a couple of wanna-be Death Eaters,”

“Can you?” Harry asked, “at that Quidditch match, you couldn’t even produce a Patronus! You've been able to do it since you were thirteen!”

“Oh, yes, let's talk about our most embarrassing moments, that's always fun. Remember when you went on a date with Cho Chang and made her cry?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I was fifteen! You're twenty!”

“Yes, Harry, I'm quite aware of how old we are, I hadn't forgotten,” Lydia said.

“Maybe you wouldn't have to take compassionate leave if you told me things!”

“What-”

“The war ended almost three years ago, and you still haven't been to therapy or even spoke to anyone about what has happened!” Harry exclaimed, “how can you expect to move forward if-”

“Oh my god, Harry!” she exclaimed, “if you must know, I was actually going to start going to therapy but you wouldn't know that!”

“Because you never tell me anything, either!” Harry yelled, “We’re both as bad as each other!”

“At least I've never gone behind your back and made you take time off from your job!”

“You did blame me for the death of Sirius though, didn't you!” Harry shouted.

Lydia clenched her jaw and folded her arms tightly. He knew how much she hated herself for ever saying that to him during that stupid argument in the Great Hall, and she hated that he would ever try and use it against her. She had said it in a moment of rage and had lost count of the amount of times that she had apologised for ever saying that to him.

“Whatever, Harry,” Lydia said, resignedly, “Carry on being a knobhead. See if I care,”

Seething with rage, Lydia stormed out of the office and slammed the door so hard, that it cracked. As she passed the Auror’s cubicles and wiping tears from her eyes, Ron called her name but she completely ignored him and was more focused on getting out of the Ministry as quickly as humanly possible, all whilst implementing a plan to crawl into bed and feel sorry for herself until she had to go and pick Teddy up.

“Siblings,” she decided, as she pulled the quilts over her head, “are fucking painful,”

\---

“Mrs Weasley?”

Lydia looked up and glanced around the therapists waiting room, shocked that she had not noticed her own mother-in-law when she had first walked in, but Mrs Weasley was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, Lydia looked back down at her hands and began fiddling with her wedding ring before she realised that she was Mrs Weasley.

“Oh! That's me, sorry!” Lydia exclaimed, jumping up, “Not been married long - keeping on forgetting I'm a Weasley, now,”

The therapist, and old man who Draco had promised her was very nice, simply smiled at her.

“Don't worry, Mrs Weasley, my wife and I have been married over forty years and she forgets as well. Come on in,”

Feeling as though she wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her, Lydia followed him into the office and took her seat. She felt herself began to close up and she was quite sure that this therapist would not be able to get anything out of her apart from an exchange of hello’s. And she felt as though he would be lucky to get even that out of her.

“My name is Piers Wells and I specialise in trauma that has manifested through conflict and war,” he began, “I’ve been doing this over thirty years, and I have heard it all,”

“Right,” Lydia said, shuffling in her seat, “Well, I don't know if you've ever gotten depressed after a session but you most likely will after this one,”

“Don't worry about a thing, I really have heard it all,” he said, “Now, before we do anything, tell me about yourself. You mentioned you haven't been married long...”

“Oh, yeah,” Lydia said, feeling herself beginning to smile, “Yeah, it was this past June,”

“How long have you known your husband?”

“Well, we met in school,” Lydia told him, “got engaged on my seventeenth birthday,”

“Bit young, don't you think?” Piers asked.

“I guess so, but it was during the war. We didn't know if either of us were going to survive or not. It was a now or never sort of thing,”

“Children?”

“One. Teddy. He's my godson,” Lydia said, “He's two,”

“That's a lot of pressure for someone so young,” Piers said, casually, “taking in a young baby,”

Lydia shrugged, “it was either that or he went to an orphanage. His parents intended for me or my brother to look after him if anything were to happen to them, I wasn't going to disrespect them by sending him away,”

“Noble,”

“I don't think it's noble,” Lydia countered, “it was just the right thing to do,”

“And your job...you’re a Quidditch player, are you not?”

“Yes,” Lydia nodded, “I play for Puddlemere United. Well, I don't right now but I usually do,”

“Want to explain that?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “I'm on compassionate leave,”

“You don't seem thrilled about that,”

“Would you be thrilled about your brother going behind your back and putting you on compassionate leave without telling you about it?” Lydia snapped. “Sorry,” she added, “it's not your fault,”

Piers regarded her for a moment, “Why don't you think you need to be on compassionate leave?”

“Because!” Lydia exclaimed, coming to the realisation that she didn't actually have a god enough reason, “because...I just don't! If I went on compassionate leave every time something bad happened to me, I'd never achieve anything,”

“I suspect you're angry at your brother?”

“Obviously,” Lydia said, “I wouldn't do it to him,”

“You and your brother have been a lot. Neither of you have really had a break since you were a year old. Have you ever considered the fact that he’s probably done it out of the good of his own heart?” Piers said, “Trauma causes people to do things without thinking them through. It makes sense that he would react like this,”

“It's just because of that stupid Dark Order! If it weren't for the fact that they attacked that Quidditch match, he wouldn't be panicking about that!” Lydia said.

“Is he not protecting you from being labelled as a Dark Witch?”

“I've dealt with that since I was eleven,” Lydia said, bluntly, “I couldn't care less what people think about me,” even she couldn't tell that lie convincingly.

“There's nothing wrong with being worried about the way that people perceive you. It's human nature to care,” Piers said, gently, “In fact, I think I would be more worried if you showed no regard to the way that people label you as being Dark Witch,”

Lydia frowned but did not say anything, and Piers didn't push her to speak anymore. They were silent for a while before he finally asked another question.

“How do you really feel about the Dark Order?”

“Terrified,” Lydia said, before she could stop herself. “When I had to fight Voldemort, I was scared but I never let myself give into the fear because it was something that I had to do. I had no choice but to put my life on the line but now...” she sighed, “now, I have a whole new life. I have a baby to look after and a career to succeed in. Back in the war, I had very little to live for. I didn't really plan to survive it. I'm not sure I actually wanted to survive it in the first place,”

“You did want to survive it,” Piers said, “you’re just feeling guilty because you know people who didn't survive it,”

“My husbands twin brother...” Lydia trailed off and shook her head, “the only reason he died was because of me and Harry. If the Weasley’s had never got to know us, then maybe they never would have fought in the war,”

Piers shook his head, “See, what you're doing there is dangerous. You're blaming yourself for a death that you could not control. There is no point in dwelling on how your life could have turned out different, because it did not turn out different. You only have this life and it's a life that you’re going to have to live. You can never change what happened,”

“But I don't want it to happen again. I don't want to start reading stories about how the Dark Order are killing innocent people all in the name of revenge,” Lydia said, “and I don't want anyone to come for me again,”

“This isn't your fight,” said Piers, “something I find a lot in soldiers is that they think they have to spend the rest of their lives on the battlefield years after the war is over. You did your duty, Lydia. You put your life on the line for the good of the Wizarding World and the right side won the war. You’re done. You don't have to fight anymore,”

“This Dark Witch thing,” Lydia said, “if I don't fight, then people are just going to think that I'm more evil than they already do. They’re going to see me as sympathetic to the Dark Order,”

“But you know you're not sympathetic to them,”

“I know,” she said, quickly, “I know but...when...when Lord Voldemort killed me, I saw Professor Dumbledore and I asked him if I was a Dark Witch and...” she stopped speaking and for a moment, she was back in Kings Cross station.

“ _Professor, can I ask you a question?”_

_“You have already asked me one but I will permit you to ask another,”_

_“The Horcrux inside of me...that's why I...that's why people think I'm a Dark Witch, isn't it? Because it had some control over me, like the locket with Ron?” Lydia asked._

_Dumbledore did not answer right away, which did not make feel Lydia feel any better. Finally, he turned to look at her._

_“Neither Horcrux had any control over you because you tend to shut your feelings off, unlike Ronald Weasley who has always been quite open with how he feels,” Dumbledore replied, “it is something that I noticed about you at school. When Sirius was killed and you came back to my office, Harry stood and let all of his feelings out, and yet you did not. Instead, you sat there with you father and I knew that you were mulling things over, waiting to say the right thing._

_“When you were sorted into Slytherin after your brother had gone to Gryffindor, you did not cry. Any other eleven year old would have probably sobbed their way through their first week, and yet you did not. Even after everything you went through, you very rarely showed how much it really hurt you. And even the Horcrux inside of you could not break down that barrier...until the time came for you to do things that some might consider unsavoury,”_

_“So it had control over me when I killed that Death Eater?” Lydia asked, assuming that she knew exactly what he was talking about._

_“No,” Dumbledore said, thoughtfully, “I don't think it ever had control over you because you're far too stubborn for that. I just think it might have pushed you in that direction. I don't think it would be wrong for me to s that perhaps it is something that you should take pride in,”_

“I am not an expert on Horcruxes and I will not pretended to be one,” Piers said, after a few moments of silence, “but I don't think that there is anything inside you that is forcing you to perform Dark Magic,”

“But then that means I cast Sectumsempra because I wanted to!”

Piers shook his head, “It is important that you understand that what you went through is unlike anything else. You saw a group of people that resembled a group you have been fighting since you were fourteen, and you immediately reverted back to the person you were during the war. That was not you showing your true colours as a Dark Witch, that was you protecting yourself and the people around you. It is nothing to be ashamed of,”

“What if do crack one day and I hurt Teddy?” Lydia asked.

“Why would you do that?”

“I...I don't know,” Lydia said.

“Tell me about your childhood. Was it a happy one?”

Lydia laughed before she could stop herself, “it was the exact opposite of a happy childhood. My Aunt and Uncle never gave a damn about me or Harry, and we lived under the stairs for a while,”

Piers nodded, knowingly, “There's a lot of parallels between you and Teddy. Both orphans and both taken in by other family members, but here's the difference- you are not your Aunt, and your husband is not your Uncle. I have no idea what you're like as a parent, but the way your face lit up when you spoke about him before tells me that you love nothing more than your family,”

“I’ve never had one before...apart from Harry, obviously,”

“What's your relationship like with Harry?”

“Oh, you know, it's...its...”

“Strained?”

“Yeah,”

“It happens,” Piers said, shrugging his shoulders, lightly. “You’ve both been through a lot and you're both dealing with it very difficult ways. What you need to do with your brother is sit down with him and talk things through. Talk about anything, whether it be the war, something funny that happened to you today, something funny that happened to you five years...anything. Talking is the best thing that we can do and yet we refuse to do it. I often said that if people sat down together and spoke about the world and the direction that it's going in, then we would be in a better place,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Also, thank-you for 100 Kudos, I won't pretend that I got ridiculously giddy when I woke up and saw that! 
> 
> -E.


	58. St Mungo's

“I want you to focus on trying to cast a Patronus again,” Piers said at the end of their latest therapy session.

Lydia had yet to settle into the sessions properly. She still found it difficult to tell him how she was really feeling and usually spent a good half an hour trying to convince him that she didn't need to be there today. He never bought the excuse and by the end of it, he would manage to squeeze something worthwhile out of it.

No matter how uncomfortable it made her, Lydia could not help but notice the genuine positive effect that it seemed to be having on her. She had noticed a significant decrease in her nightmares and she no longer jumped at every loud noise. Even better, when she was back playing Quidditch, she was no longer wrought with the fear that the Dark Order were coming to attack her again, and was playing much better for it.

In fact, everything was going quite well and it sort of terrified her. Whilst she was very happy to be happy, she was suddenly terrified of losing it all again and very quickly made the decision to not tell Piers about this. She did not want to make a big deal out out of it.

“Why?” Lydia asked.

“As you know, a Patronus can only exist out of happiness. True happiness,” Piers said, “So, work on that. Work on finding true happiness,”

“Easier said than done,” Lydia muttered.

“That's life,” Piers said, shrugging.

So Lydia did try. When she was not playing Quidditch, she would stand in the middle of the living room and try and conjure the Patronus, but it never worked. All she would ever be able to produce was wisps of silver smoke and it made her feel thirteen again, a feeling she was not particularly happy about. To try and make herself feel better, she accompanied the failed spell casting with eating a lot of Honeydukes chocolate, but that just made her feel sick.

She went through every memory she could think of; making Teddy laugh for the first time, walking down the aisle, the look on Harry’s face when he killed Voldemort and the feeling of the weight of the world being lifted off her shoulders, seeing George properly smile for the first time after Fred had died, spending hours upon hours in the Gryffindor common room with Harry, Ron and Hermione and the feeling of the fire warming them up as laughter filled the room. When none of those worked, she thought about the unconventional memories; seeing George at Malfoy Manor and knowing that he would be OK, somehow. James, Lily, Remus and Sirius appearing before her as she walked into the Forbidden Forest, preparing herself for death. The feeling when Daphne and Urquhart stood beside her during the Battle of Hogwarts.  
She tried to think of what she used to think of; what it felt like to know that people were on her after Voldemort had come back but that just upset her even more once she started to think about how many people they had lost.

Nothing worked. She was getting more and more frustrated with herself. It was a hard thing to wrap her head around, the fact that she had been able to cast a spell since the age of thirteen and was no longer able to do it. Then again, she reminded herself, it had been Harry who was better at the Patronus Charm. It had been him who had driven all those Dementors away in their third year.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you're struggling so much because you're not speaking to Harry?” George asked her casually one night.

“ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” Lydia exclaimed. No Doe leapt from the end of her and Lydia groaned.

“You're ignoring me,” George said.

“No, I'm not. I’ve just gone temporarily deaf because I didn't like what you said,” Lydia shrugged, “however true it might be,”

George stood up and yanked her wand out of her hand, dropping it onto the couch and gently sat her down on the couch. It was only when she sat down that she realised how tired she was; she was sweating and shaking as though she had just ran a marathon.

“Do you want some chocolate?” George asked.

“Obviously, I'm stressed,”

“Not talking to Harry isn't helping anything,” George said, handing a bar of chocolate to her.

“He's a dickhead,” Lydia muttered, as though that helped anything.

“So are you,” George shrugged, “But that's why I love you,” he added hastily.

Lydia sniggered and curled up next to him, closing her eyes. Nothing annoyed her more than when George was right about something. There was nothing worse than having to admit that sometimes he was right about things and sometimes she was very, very wrong.

“I know I'm a dickhead,” Lydia sighed, “I've always been very open about the fact that I am one massive dickhead, but that doesn't mean that it's okay for him to be a dickhead! He's meant to be the nice, reasonable twin. I'm meant to be the mean, unreasonable twin,”

“I wish you wouldn't talk about yourself like that,” he said, quietly.

“It's true, though,” Lydia said.

“It's not true,” he said, firmly, “And I know you won't listen to anything nice that anyone says about you, but you’re not the horrible twin,”

“You have to say that, we’re married,”

“Seriously, Lyds, just...speak to him,” George said, his voice suddenly shaking, “twins should stick together,”

Lydia wished he didn't have to be so right all the time.

\---

George leapt out of bed at the sound of a series of loud banging on the door. Lydia yelped and jumped up besides him, snatching her wand from under her pillow where she kept it. There was a few moments of silence and then the banging started again, quickly followed by Teddy beginning to cry at the loud noises.

“Get Teddy,” George said.

As Lydia ran from the room to get to Teddy, her fathers last words echoed through her mind, “ _Lily, take Harry and Lydia and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!_ ” but she was being ridiculously, she told herself as she scooped Teddy into her arms. She and George were no more Lily and James than they were Vernon and Petunia. Piers had reminded her of this fact time and time again but she seemed incapable of actually understanding it.

“It's Ron!” George called to her, but there was a strange note in his voice.

Heart beat accelerating, Lydia ran into the hall. Her eyes scanned Ron, expecting to find some horrible injury, but he looked fine if not for the tears that were sparkling in his eyes.

“What's happened?” Lydia asked.

“I don't know,” he moaned, “I - ugh, I was on my way to work to start my shift but then I got an owl off Draco and...and..” He took a deep breath, “Harry left for a mission this morning, they found him unconscious somewhere,”

Lydia's heart did a somersault in her chest.

“And?” She asked, “is he - is he alive?”

“Just,” Ron said, “He's at St Mungo’s,”

Lydia didn't need to hear anything more. She passed Teddy to George and grabbed her coats pulling it over pyjamas. She felt like being sick and collapsing into a ball of sobs all at the same time. She couldn't lose Harry. She wouldn't lose Harry. She hadn't even apologised to him for being the worlds worst sister.

“Well?” Lydia snapped, “why are we all stood here as though my brother isn't dying?”

St Mungo’s was as packed as ever and every noise irritated her. Everyone was moving too slowly and did not seem to care that Harry was in a ward above them somewhere, possibly on his deathbed. Once George had gotten to the front desk and found out where Harry was, Lydia wasted no time in running there. Every minute that passed was a minute closer to him dying, was one minute less than Lydia could spend with him.

When they arrived outside the ward, Hermione was already there, pacing up an down outside and wringing her hands together. When she saw Lydia, she said nothing and instead threw her arms around her and repeated how sorry she was over and over again. Lydia could not think of anything to say to her but was very appreciative of the hug.

“Where's Draco?” Ron asked.

“Working,” Hermione said, miserably, “he can't get away for another hour and they won't let us in to see Harry,”

“Why?” Lydia exclaimed, “We have every right to see him!”

“Do you know what happened?” George asked.

Hermione shook her head, “I wasn't overlooking this mission. I've been working on something completely different with a completely different team of Aurors! And because it's not my investigation, no one will tell me anything!”

“Here's his Healer...” Ron said, quietly.

Lydia jumped in front of him and probably scared the living daylights out of him. He looked slightly pissed off for a moment until he realised how she was and then his expression softened.

“Can I see him?” Lydia asked.

“You know you can't,” he said and, to his credit, he did sound sympathetic, “he isn't in the best shape and I don't want to distress you,”

“Truly, I couldn't care less about how ‘distressing,’ it might be. I only have one brother,” she snapped before adding, “well, one brother and seven in-laws,”

“I'm aware of this, Mrs Weasley, but there really is nothing I can do,”

“You could open the door and let me see him,”

“I can't do that,”

“You could though. In theory,”

He smiled at her, “I know I could, but I am not going to. You are free to wait here until visitation begins, but even I cannot promise that you can see him then,”

“When's visitation?” Lydia asked.

“It begins at eleven and ends at six,” he told her.

“What time is it now?”

“Half past three,”

“Eight and half hours is nothing,” Lydia shrugged, “I'll wait,”

“But I can't promise you will see him-”

“I said that I'll wait,” Lydia said, bluntly.

And so they waited. It was like hunting for Horcruxes again; they could do nothing but sit and wait, staring blankly ahead of them. Lydia bombarded every Healer that walked in and out of the ward with questions, but none of them ever had anything to say. When Draco finally finished his shift, he arrived with no more information than they already had and, despite the fact that he worked there, none of his coworkers offered him anymore advice.

When the sun rose, George took Teddy to get some food from the tea room and came back with what looked like as much food as he could physically hold. Lydia could not bring herself to eat. She was too busy trying to stop herself from writing a eulogy for Harry in her head. He's not going to die, he's not going to die, he's not going to die was all she could think over and over again in her head. When eleven o clock finally rolled around, they were told that they could still not see him and it would be best to go home.

“I’ll stay,” Lydia said. She turned to the others, “you can all go and get some rest. I don’t have anything to do today, anyway,”

“I’ll stay with you,” George said, “I don't have anything on today. The shop can survive one day without me,”

“We’ll take Teddy, then,” Ron said, taking Teddy off George, “there's no point in keeping him here all day,”

“Thanks, mate,” George said, “we’ll let you know if anything changes,”

“I’ll stay, too,” Draco said, speaking up for the first time in hours. His voice was croaky and he looked quite ill.

“Go home and sleep,” Lydia told him.

“If he wakes up-”

“We’ll tell you. I wouldn't leave you in the dark,” Lydia said, “Also, you look terrible. You haven't slept in almost a day,”

“Don't let me the last to know,” Draco pleaded.

“I would never,”

Once they were gone, Lydia and George sat cross legged on the floor in silence. Lydia was over trying to get any information out of the Healers that passed them and just trusted that they would tell them if there was something that they really needed to know. The biggest problem that Lydia had with the whole thing was the no one could tell her anything. She had no idea where he had been, what he had been doing and what had been done to him.

“I am the worst person in the whole world,” Lydia said to George.

“You're not,” George said to her.

“I am! I basically said to him that I didn't care what I did the last time I saw him!” Lydia exclaimed, “and now he's gone and got himself injured and he might die! Wha - what do I do if he dies, George? H-how am I meant to do anything if he's dead?”

“Speaking from experience, you don't deal with it. You just learn to live with it,”

“I don't want to live without him,”

“Sometimes we don't have a choice,” he whispered, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

The door of the ward finally opened and Lydia leapt up as the Healer she had spoken to the previous night walked out. He looked exhausted and Lydia felt a sudden rush of sympathy towards him; she had given him an unnecessarily hard time for just doing his job.

“We’ve managed to stabilise him,”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” George said, “Is he - is he going to be OK?”

The Healer nodded, “Yes. He’ll be in hospital for a while, but he will pull through,”

“Can we see him?” Lydia asked.

The word yes was barely out of the Healers mouth when Lydia shoved past him. Harry was in a brightly lit private ward. The bed was set against a wall and Harry was sat up with a tray of food on his lap. Lydia could not help but notice how terrible he looked; his skin was ridiculously pale and his scar seemed to be showing up more than usual. His hair was matted and Lydia could see thick bandages picking out from under his pyjamas. Despite this, she still ran over to him and flung her arms around him.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed, “Fucking hell, Lydia, I'm in a lot of pain! Can you not hug me so hard,”

“Sorry!” She whispered, wiping her eyes and peering closer at him, “Are you OK? What happened? Are you feeling better? Are you feeling worse? Do I need to get the Healer again because I-”

“If you don't stop talking, I'm going to have a headache on top of the headache that I already have,”

“Sorry!” Lydia said again, sitting down in the chair next to the bed whilst George hugged him, “but, what did happen?”

He shrugged, “I don't actually know. I was on a mission looking for the Black Order and then someone hit me from behind. Some hex that I've never heard of and that no one here has, apparently,”

“So, what's under the bandages?” Lydia asked, frowning.

“Broken ribs, bruising and a whole lot of cuts,” Harry listed.

Lydia burst into tears and Harry jumped slightly, hitting his head against the wall. When he gave George a funny look, Lydia put her head in her hands and tried to stop herself from crying. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying; she felt like it was partly out of relief for Harry being OK, guilt at the last thing she could have ever said to him was calling him a knobhead and the fact that he was obviously in a lot of pain.

“Lyds,” Harry said, gently, “You don't have to - you don't have to cry, I'm OK. I'm not dead,”

“You could have been though!” Lydia exclaimed.

“But I'm not,” Harry said, slowly.

“What if the last thing I ever called you was a knobhead?” Lydia asked.

“Then I would know that despite everything, you're still you,”

“It's not funny, Harry!” Lydia said, “I said that I didn't care what you did!”

“Come on, Lyds, do you really think I'd let you have the last word?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Sorry this took longer than usual to get up, but life comes at you fast sometimes. 
> 
> -E.


	59. Order of Merlin

Lydia barely left Harry's bedside over the next few weeks. She left for Quidditch practice as late as what humanly possible and then came back the moment the coach blew the whistle and she could leave. When Hermione, Ron, Draco and George weren't working, they were usually there as well. The Healers still did not know what hex Harry had been hit with and could not heal him properly.

He spent most of his time drifting in and out of consciousness, and was taking up to five different types of Pain-Relief Potions. Lydia thought that they should bring Madam Pomfrey because she would be able to fix him in a heartbeat, Harry said hat he'd rather be in pain for the rest of his life than have to listen to Madam Pomfrey lecture him about how reckless he was.

“I always felt like she made good points though,” Lydia said, “you really are too reckless,”

“So are you!”

“I'm not in hospital though, am I?” she said, she glanced at her watch, “What time did you say Hermione is finishing work? I’m technically five minutes late for a therapy session,”

“Lydia!” Harry exclaimed, “Are you for real? Go!”

“Yeah, but-”

“I am more than capable of lying in this bed without supervision, Lyds. _Go,”_

When Lydia finally arrived at Piers’ office, he was stood outside and looking up and down the corridor, presumably wondering where she was. When he saw her, he sighed and then gestured for her to go in.

“Ten minutes late,” he said.

“I know,” she said, “I'm sorry. Harry’s still in hospital and I still feel guilty,”

Piers nodded, “Have you been working on the Patronus?”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, “it's going really badly, before you ask,”

“I do have to ask. It is my job,” he paused for a moment, “how did you learn when you were thirteen?”

“Remus Lupin taught me and Harry. It took us weeks but we got there in the end,” Lydia told him.

“What was it like, knowing you could cast such a powerful spell at such a young age?”

“I don't know...” Lydia answered, truthfully, “I think, I was too tired to be amazed at first but then I think...I think the more I thought about it, the more I appreciated the actual spell. Being able to cast it always felt like a small act of rebellion for me,”

“How so?”

“I was in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was evil. Everyone thought I was going to join Sirius Black in killing Harry and bringing Voldemort back from the dead...and yet I could cast a spell that's the embodiment of light. I could cast a spell that repels the darkest of creatures and bring about hope,” Lydia explained. She felt herself smile, “In my head, I couldn't possibly be a Dark Witch because a Dark Witch wouldn't have the capacity to produce as something as pure as a Patronus,”

“Have you ever thought about thinking about that memory when you're trying to cast the spell?” Piers asked.

Lydia scoffed, “No, I don't feel like that anymore. Besides, when I was thirteen Lord Voldemort wasn't back and we weren't in a war. I need more than a Patronus to cure me of thinking that I'm going to snap one day and kill everyone,”

“But then that goes against everything you just said to me,” Piers countered, “You said it yourself; a Dark Witch would not have the capacity to produce something as pure as a Patronus,”

“So the fact that I can't is just proving that I am a Dark Witch or at least a not very nice person,”

“No, that's not true. The likes of Bellatrix Lestrange would not actively try and make her life better like you are. The fact that you are sat before me and are trying to make a change proves that you're a good person, Lydia, regardless of whether you can cast a Patronus or not,”

“I don't like how you twist my words,”

“I’m not twisting them,” Piers said, as calm as ever, “I’m actually just repeating what you're saying but because I'm a therapist, you take me more seriously than you take yourself,”

“I don't like myself enough to take myself seriously,”

Piers sighed, “Yeah, we really do have a lot to work on,”

Even though Lydia knew that everything Piers was saying was right, she still couldn't shake the feeling that she was a terrible person. And it didn't matter how often George pointed out to her that Harry wasn't angry with her and was also more than likely going to make a full recovery, she was still haunted by what could have happened if he had died. How would she ever have been able to live with herself if he had died and she would never have had the chance to apologise.

All this guilt only meant that Lydia dreamt about the Courtroom every night. She was so embarrassed about the fact that she was still having dreams about it that she hadn't even told George about it. She knew that keeping something as important as having these kind of nightmares to herself was recipe for a disaster of the greatest kind, but she was getting quite fed up of people constantly giving her sympathetic looks. It was highly patronising, annoying and definitely not needed.

“You’ve got a letter here,” George said, dropping it on the table as she was finishing writing a letter to Daphne, “And, ooh, so have I...please don't be bills...please don't be bills..please don't be - fuck me!”

“Too tired,” Lydia replied absentmindedly.

“First of all, ever so slightly disappointing, second of all, not what I meant, look!” he shoved the letter underneath her nose and she took it off him, wondering what on earth could have stressed him out so much.

_“Dear Mr Weasley,_

_I am pleased to inform you that you will be one of the recipients of the Order of Merlin Second Class for services to the Wizarding World after your bravery in the Second Wizarding War._

_The ceremony will take place at the Ministry of Magic on April 15th, 2001. It will be an evening to celebrate a number of extraordinary and inspiring members of the Wizarding Community and I hope to see you in attendance._

_Please send me an OWL back confirming you will attend by no later than April 10th, 2001._

_Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt,_

_Minister for Magic,”_

Lydia dropped the letter to the table and looked up at him, “Well, congratulations,”

“You've got one as well!” he exclaimed.

“This is only addressed to Mr Weasley-”

“No, I know, but you also have a letter,” he handed the other envelope over to her, “they’re not not going to give Lydia Potter one, are they?”

“Lydia Weasley,” she corrected him, “I spent a lot of money to change my name,”

“You know what I mean,”

_“Dear Mrs Weasley,_

_I am pleased to inform you that you will be one of the recipients of the Order of Merlin First Class, not only for your services to the Wizarding World after your bravery in the Second Wizarding War, but also because of your bravery before the war had even began._

_The ceremony will take place at the Ministry of Magic on April 15th, 2001. It will be an evening to celebrate a number of extraordinary and inspiring members of the Wizarding Community and I hope to see you in attendance._

_Please send me an OWL back confirming you will attend by no later than April 10th, 2001._

_Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt,_

_Minister for Magic,”_

“Ah,” Lydia said quietly, “You were right. Order of Merlin First Class, apparently,”

“I wonder who else got them...” George wondered, glancing down at his letter.

Who else became apparent very quickly. Hermione and Ron appeared in their fireplace moments later, both clinging onto their letters and looking quite shell shocked. They then got OWLS from Harry, (written by Draco) Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Daphne, Urquhart and every other person who had fought in the war. Fleur had already been given a medal from the French Ministry, and was now to receive the Order of Merlin.

“This is..mad,” Lydia said, glancing up at George, Hermione and Ron, “I didn't think-”

“You didn't think you'd get one?” Ron asked, gobsmacked, “After everything you've done?”

“No, it's not that,” Lydia said, “I just forgot that they existed,”

“If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I'm sure you could go and speak to Kingsley about it,” Hermione said, further confirming that she could definitely read minds, “I'm sure he’d be more than willing to make time for you,”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, quietly, “Yeah, I think I’ll do that,” she shoved the letter she was writing to Daphne away from her and picked up a fresh piece of parchment, “I’ll write to him now,”

“Hey, has anyone noticed that Draco isn't getting one?” Ron said, frowning at the letter that he had sent.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, “Of course he is,”

“If he is, he's not mentioned it in his letter,” Ron shrugged, passing it over, “Look,”

_“‘Since Harry is still incapable of doing much other than eating and sleeping, I've taken it upon myself to tell you that he is being given an Order of Merlin. I'm sure you and the others have received them as well,””_ Hermione read aloud, furrowing her eyebrows slightly, “Well...no, I don't think he's been given one,”

“Why not?” George asked, “he's more than deserving of one, isn't he?”

“I guess the Death Eater is working against him...” Lydia sighed, “After everything with Dumbledore...”

“Professor Snape is receiving one posthumously,” Hermione said, quietly, “I heard Kingsley talking about it last week,”

Lydia laughed, “Seriously? _Snape_ is receiving one, and actual Death Eater and not Draco? Great Merlin,”

“I suppose it's something you could talk about with Kingsley,” Ron said.

“Don't get yours revoked, though,” Hermione said, hurriedly, “You know what you're like. You almost talked yourself out of being Prefect in fifth year,”

Lydia scowled at her, “That was Umbridge,”

“You said to her, and I quote, “You keep on threatening to take my prefect badge off me as though it's something that I’ll miss,” Hermione reminded her.

“‘Mione, you're missing out the best bit where she said, “I don't like terrorising students, that's just you,”” Ron sighed wistfully.

The next morning, she received another letter of Kingsley inviting Lydia to see him that afternoon. In all honesty, Lydia wasn't exactly sure what she was actually going to say to him when she saw him. A part of her wanted to tell him that she didn't want to accept the Order of Merlin, but another part was just telling herself that she was going just to give her something to do on her day off.

“Come on, Teddy,” she sighed, picking him up, “Lets go and see the Minister for Magic,”

“Why?” Teddy asked.

“Because I need to talk to him about some boring adult things,”

He looked at her and then shrugged, “‘kay,” not for the first time, Lydia wished that she could be as constantly un-bothered by everything as Teddy was.

Kingsley did not leave her waiting very long when they got to the Ministers office. In fact, Lydia had barely sat down by the time he popped his head around the office door and beckoned her in. Still unsure of what she was actually going to say to him, Lydia forced a smile onto her face and followed him into the office and took her seat.

“Would you like a drink of anything?” Kingsley asked her.

“Um, tea, is fine,” Lydia said, “Teddy, do you want a drink?” He frowned for a moment and then his hair turned bright orange. “That means Pumpkin Juice,” she said to Kingsley, “if you have it,”

“He’s a cute kid,” Kingsley smiled, placing their drinks in front of them, “What is it that you're worried about?”

“I...I don't actually know,” Lydia admitted, “the thought of accepting an Order of Merlin makes me weirdly uncomfortable,”

“Why?” Kingsley asked, “You deserve it,”

“And Draco Malfoy doesn't?” Lydia asked.

Kingsley raised his eyebrows at her, “Lydia, what you must understand, Draco is...he’s an anomaly,”

“He saved mine and Harry’s lives at Malfoy Manor. If he hadn't have changed over, we’d never have gotten out of there,” Lydia said bluntly, “I don't understand how that doesn't warrant getting an Order of Merlin but somehow Severus Snape deserves one?”

“Severus Snape laid down his life-”

“What about Fred Weasley?” Lydia asked, “He laid down his life during the Battle of Hogwarts. So did fifty others, including Teddy’s parents. How come they aren't getting one? What about my mum? She laid down her life before anyone did! And my dad! I can think of thousands more people who deserve an Order of Merlin before Severus Snape, before me!”

“Would you feel better about accepting the Order of Merlin if those who died in the Battle of Hogwarts were posthumously given one?” Kingsley asked.

“Miles better,” Lydia said, folding her arms, “If Peter Pettigrew can be given an Order of Merlin for blowing himself up, then so can the likes of Colin Creevey. And, I know for a fact that neither Fudge nor Scrimgeour ever revoked that,”

“Very well, Lydia,” Kingsley said, “I will be sending letters out to the families of those who passed,”

“Cedric Diggory, too/” Lydia asked, hopefully.

Kingsley nodded. “And Draco Malfoy,” he conceded, “You’re right. He did a lot for you and Harry,”

\---

The Order of Merlin ceremony came around a lot quicker than Lydia wanted it to. When she and George dropped Teddy off at the babysitters, she considered asking if she could be babysat too but quickly stopped herself when she realised how weird that sounded. George seemed to be in a good mood, but Lydia was sure that he was just compensating for the fact that he missed Fred.

The day after Lydia had seen Kingsley, George had received a letter informing him that Fred would be given the Order of Merlin First Class. A letter, addressed to Teddy, the arrived informing him that Remus and Tonks would also be receiving the same honour. Lydia put the letter away with the intention to give it to him when he was older.

With Harry now out of hospital, Draco being able to actually leave the hospital and Hermione and Ron knee deep in wedding planning, everything seemed to have settled down again. Puddlemere United were predicted to win the league and after an offer off them, Lydia was toying with the idea of joining the Hollyhead Harpies. It had been the first Quidditch team that she had ever supported and the thought of playing on the same Quidditch team as Ginny was very inviting, and not just for the fact that having two Chasers with the same name would provide Lydia with endless hours of laughter.

“Are you panicking as much as I am?” George asked as they Apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

“I don't think there's ever a time in my life when I'm not panicking,” Lydia sighed, “At least you’re not the highest honour of the night or whatever it is...” Kingsley had written her and Harry a second letter to inform them that they were to be the “Highest Honourees,” of the night. Lydia felt that this was slightly ridiculous, but Hermione convinced her to not fight it.

“It's just one night, Lyds,” she had sighed, “just show your face and then you can go home,”

George immediately walked over to the staff entrance where they were meeting Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco but Lydia automatically pulled him back and shook her head. He looked down at her and frowned.

“What-”

“I can't go through the staff entrance,” she said, quickly, “When we broke into the Ministry...”

He did not say anything and they walked back round the corner to the visitors entrance. There was a massive line that Lydia was quite sure would be suspicious to Muggles, but she didn't care. She was more than happy to never have to go through the staff entrance again. Memories of Yaxley, Dementors and Umbridge floated around her mind for a while and she zoned out until they got to the front of the queue.

The auditorium was already packed full of people when they got there, and that would have been enough to make Lydia want to turn on the spot and go home. And she probably would have done if it weren't for the fact that George had hold of her hand and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking for her pulled her over to where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were stood with Neville, Daphne and Urquhart.

“There you are!” Harry exclaimed, “I really thought you weren't going to come,”

“Don't think that me being here means I actually want to be here,” Lydia said.

“Of course I don't want to be here,” Harry said.

“None of us want to be here,” Daphne grumbled, “I've had a solo spa day planned since last June! And I had to cut it short!”

“You had to cut it short by two hours, it's not like you had to cancel the whole thing,” Urquhart sighed.

“I spend my my days looking after old people, two hours is like a lifetime for me,” Daphne said.

“I thought you liked working at the care home,” George frowned.

“Oh, no, I do,” she said, “but I also really like spa days,”

They fell silent as Amos Diggory walked passed them with his wife to greet the Minister. In the seven years that had passed since Cedric had died, he had lost a lot of weight and his skin was a sickly grey colour. Mrs Diggory had her head bowed as Kingsley spoke to them and Lydia was quite sure it was so that she could hide her tears.

“You OK?”  George whispered to her, squeezing her hand slightly.

“Yes, I'm fine,” Lydia replied, but all she could think about was the first time she had ever had a nightmare about the courtroom and how Cedric had stood up to confront her.

_“You let me die. You just stood there and let Voldemort kill me. And you consider yourself some sort of hero? You're no better than any Death Eater. You could barely bring yourself to duel him when he came back. You're a coward,”_

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Harry said, looking over at the Diggory’s.

“We’ll be fine,” Draco reassured him, “We’ve been through worse than a poncy ceremony,”

“That time I forgot my Transfiguration homework,” Harry said, shuddering.

“That time I disintegrated an entire row of desks in Potions,” Lydia said.

“That time I took too many classes in one year,” Hermione said.

“That time Madam Pince caught me eating in the library,” Ron muttered, darkly.

“I like how you've all been in death defying situations and that's what you all come up with,” Daphne giggled.

“Have you ever forgotten your Transfiguration homework?” Harry asked her.

“An entire row of desks!” Lydia said, “A whole row! I mean, really, it was quite the achievement,”

“So was coming back from the dead,” George said.

“I was only dead for like half an hour,” Lydia shrugged, “Dad was much more impressive. Over ten years!”

“This is the worst conversation I've ever been a part of,” Urquhart said, loudly.

Urquhart was saved from having to be around them for much longer by Kingsley calling them into the hall where the ceremony was to be held. This only reminded Lydia of how much she didn't want to be here and suddenly wished that she had the Invisibility Cloak. When she whispered this to Harry, he smirked and then reached into his robes and pulled out a very thin, silvery piece of fabric.

“You’re my favourite brother,”

“I'm your only brother,” he hissed at her as they took their seats in the front row.

“Don't ruin the moment, dickhead,”

Harry snorted but quickly shut up when Kingsley walked into the room, looking solemn. Lydia straightened up in her seat slightly and tried to look as interested as possible. It wasn't that she wasn't interested, she was just worried that if she did start becoming too interested she would start crying and would not be able to stop.

“Welcome, everyone and thank-you for joining us on a very special occasion,” Kingsley began, “We do have a lot to go through, so I think I’ll just jump straight into it,” he cleared his throat, “The Order of Merlin is a prestigious award bestowed upon wizards and witches who have achieved great things for the Wizarding World. The recipients amongst us today have gone above and beyond in assuring that we may live in a safe and harmonious world,”

“Tell that to the Dark Order,” Harry muttered, “Harmonious my arse,”

“To begin with, I would like to honour the dead,” Kingsley said, “A great many lives were lost in the second war and the least we can do is honour them. And so I award the Order of Merlin First Class for acts of outstanding bravery to; Mr Cedric Diggory, Mr Colin Creevey, Mr Fred Weasley, Miss Lavender Brown, Mr Remus Lupin, Mrs Nymphadora Lupin...”

Lydia could not bare to look at the stage as the family members of the deceased took to the stage. George could not face going to collect Fred’s Order of Merlin, and so Bill went for them. Lydia and Harry braved going up for Remus and Tonks and pretended that they did not notice the flurry of camera flashes when they shook Kingsley’s hand. Though that did not stop Lydia from getting ridiculously angry about the whole thing; how were they more important than the dead being honoured?

“Now, to those amongst us...” Kingsley shifted through his parchment for a moment, he laughed slightly, “There's a lot of Weasley's here so...to Misters, Arthur, William, Charlie, George the Order of Merlin Second Class for achievements beyond the ordinary in their help to the Order of the Phoenix,” their was applause as they stood up, “and, the Order of Merlin Second Class for Mrs Molly Weasley for her to the Order of the Phoenix and for Miss Ginevra Weasley, for her involvement with Dumbledore’s Army when Hogwarts School was under Death Eater reign,”

As the Weasley's congregated on stage, Lydia was quite sure that there was no other family more worthy of such an award. The more people that went up to collect their awards, the more she realised that the war had always been so much more than her and Harry. There was a particularly loud applause from the Hogwarts students when Professor McGonagall went up to collect hers. When Neville’s name was called, Lydia could not help but burst into tears, and the others were not far behind her.

“To Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Ronald Weasley, for aiding the Children Who Lived in the hunt for Lord Voldemort and being willing to sacrifice everything in the name of goodness, I award them the Order of Merlin First Class,”

Ron went bright red as he followed Hermione up to the stage who looked like she might have been crying. Even Lydia could not help but applaud as Kingsley hung the golden medal, which hung on a green ribbon around their necks. As she applauded, Lydia leaned over to Harry.

“You know the green is meant to represent Merlin’s house,”

“Merlin was in Slytherin?” Harry asked her incredulously.

“Yes,” Lydia grinned, “It's not just Gryffindor who get all the glory, you know,”

Once the applause had died down and Lydia could hear Mrs Weasley sobbing in the row beyond her, Kingsley turned back to the crowd and Ron and Hermione, both looking quite embarrassed, sat back down.

 

”And, to Mr Draco Malfoy, the Order of Merlin First Class. Draco turned his back on his family and not for personal gain, but so that the world could one day be a better place,” 

Draco turned red as he went to collect his medal, and Lydia made a point of clapping as loudly as she could due to the lack of applause from everyone else.  

“Now,” Kingsley said and Lydia inwardly groaned, knowing exactly what was coming, “could Harry and Lydia Potter please join me on stage?”

“Weasley!” George called out. 

There was some laughter and Kingsley smiled at them, “You’re right, forgive me, Harry Potter and Lydia _Weasley,”_

Suddenly overcome with the urge to laugh, Lydia stood on one side of Kingsley and Harry stood on the other.

“On the night of October 31st 1981, the course of history changed forever, though we would not know this at the time. I think I can speak for the majority of those who were alive at the time in saying that our first thought was that of heartbreak and worry for the two children that were left behind. And, through all odds, they are stood here with me today,” Kingsley said, glancing at either side of him, “Tales of what they got up to during their time at Hogwarts somehow sifted through the cracks and found their way to the ears of rest of the Wizarding Community. The first time I heard the story of Harry and Lydia, with the help of their best and closest friends Ron and Hermione brewing an illegal polyjuice potion I remember thinking...Merlin, they really are their parents rolled into one.

“I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not until I met them for the first time. They were going into their fifth year and I wasn't sure what to expect. Harry walked into the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, looking awfully like his father but, of course, with Lily’s eyes...and also her knack for being overly sarcastic. And then Lydia walked in and was too shocked at the fact that she was a prefect to take much note of anything else.

“The Potter kids had to grow up faster than any other teenagers I know. At the age of seventeen, they were faced with a terrifying reality; they could be meeting deaths at any moment. And then, Lydia did. At the age of seventeen, Lydia Potter was more than prepared to give everything up for the rest of the world and Harry Potter won a duel that even the most skilled of us could not win,”

Lydia glanced over at Harry and he looked very embarrassed, but Lydia thought that he had made a very good point.

“Which is why I am more than honoured to award them both with the Order of Merlin First Class, for acts of outstanding bravery,” as the room filled with raucous applause, Kingsley hung the medals around their necks and Lydia suddenly felt like she was going to collapse.

 “And,” Kingsley said, over the sounds of the applause, “We could not, of course, celebrate tonight without including Lily and James Potter in these celebrations. Lily sacrificed herself for the sake of her two children and, even when given a second chance at life, James Potter was still willing to risk his life to protect his children. And so, I would also like to award James and Lily with the Order of Merlin First Class, for sacrificing everything they had,” he handed Lydia and Harry two medals in boxes with a sad smile. 

“They would be so proud of you,” Kingsley said, though only so Lydia and Harry could hear.

“Thank-you,” Harry said, quietly.

Lydia did not trust herself to speak and just nodded at him.

When the actual ceremony was over, they moved into another room for the after party. It very quickly turned into a Hogwarts reunion and Lydia realised that she did not see any of her schoolmates enough. Seeing her old teachers was even stranger; Professor Slughorn was still ridiculously jovial, Professor Sprout was as cheerful as ever and Professor McGonagall was still as stern as ever, but seemed very happy about the Order of Merlin hanging around her neck. She was also very quick to start a conversation with Lydia about Quidditch.

As the night wore on and Lydia felt a headache coming on, Harry sidled up to her and held the Invisibility Cloak up. She grinned at him and ducked underneath it. With Harry now being a lot taller than he had been the last time they were under it and Lydia wearing heels, they both had to stoop slightly but they got away from the crowd without anyone noticing that they had disappeared.

 They found somewhere to sit and sat in silence for a while. Lydia toyed with the medal on her neck, still finding the whole thing very strange. Harry was staring down at the ‘ _I must not tell lies_ ,’ scar on his hand.

“That seems like so long ago,” he said.

“It was so long ago,” Lydia replied, glancing down at her own, “Still angry that they haven't faded. Teddy asked me what it was the other week,”

“What did you say?” Harry asked.

“I told him I hurt my hand when I was in school and that it’s a scar like the one on my head,” Lydia said, “I didn't feel like telling him that we used to get tortured nightly when were fifteen,”

“Bit much for a toddler I suppose...” 

“Bit much for a fifteen year old,”

“Merlin, we’ve had a weird life haven’t we?” Harry laughed.

“Oh, god, the weirdest,” Lydia said, “sometimes I can’t believe magic actually exists and I have to do a spell just to make sure,” 

“I’m glad we’re alive though,” Harry said.

Lydia rested her head on his shoulder, “Yeah, me too,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favourite chapter ever and I have no idea why. 
> 
> Anyway, thank-you for reading! 
> 
> Also, the next chapter is the last one, just a heads up. And I am SO not ready for it to be over. 
> 
> -E.


	60. Epilogue

**January 15th 2005**

A lot, Lydia reflected, had changed. Harry and Draco had adopted a son, Ron and Hermione were expecting their first child, Lydia was now playing alongside Ginny for the Holyhead Harpies and both Harry and Ron had come to the realisation that being an Auror was not for them. They had both had quite spectacular breakdowns before finding careers that actually suited them: Harry was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts and Ron was working with George at the shop.

Even stranger, Lydia had given birth and Merlin was she in pain. As they walked down the street to their new house, Lydia was doing her best to pretend that she wasn't in the most pain she had ever been in her life all whilst worrying that she would never be able to sit on a broom comfortably again.

George had barely knocked on the door before it was flung open by Hermione, her eyes slid over George and Lydia before they came to rest on the tiny bundle that was in Lydia’s arms. She squealed and then quickly clapped her arms over her mouth when George put a finger to his lips. 

“He’s sleeping,” he said, quietly, “Where's Ted?”

“Being annoyed by Ron,” Hermione sighed, “Who is being annoyed by James who is being annoyed by Draco who is being annoyed by Harry,” 

George grinned and hurried into the house, lugging all their bags behind him. Lydia looked over at Hermione and beamed. It was a strange thing, knowing that she and George had brought a child into the world. Especially after years of Lydia thinking that she never would. Teddy had always been more than enough for them, but the two of them loved their own siblings too much to deprive him of such a bond.

“Did you decide on a name?” Hermione asked her. 

“Fred James,” Lydia replied, looking down at him. He had woken up again and was looking up at her with big green eyes through a tuft of red hair, “We came to the realisation that we know too many dead people,” 

“How are you both so depressing during one of the happiest times of your lives?” Hermione asked as they walked into the house. 

“Let me tell you, I was not happy when I was pushing I was in-” Lydia quickly stopped herself as Hermione absentmindedly rubbed her own stomach. She was only three months away from giving birth and Lydia did not want to scare her, “I was in absolutely no pain whatsoever. Honestly, giving birth is like the most pleasurable feeling-”

“Shut up, Lyds,” Hermione advised her. 

“Yeah...” 

“Look who's here, Ted!” George exclaimed, “it's your baby brother, Fred!”

Teddy stopped in the act of trying to punch Ron and walked over to Lydia. She crouched down slightly to show him Fred. He stared at him for a moment and then looked up at Lydia and George. 

“When are we giving him back?” Teddy asked. 

“When are we...what?” George said. 

“When are we giving him back?” Teddy repeated.

“We’re...we’re not,” Lydia said, “He’s part of the family. He's your brother,” 

“I don't want a brother!”

“What is happening?,” George muttered. 

“Don't worry about it,” Ron said, ruffling Teddy’s hair, “I didn't want a sister either. You get used to it in the end,” 

Once everyone had gotten to hold Fred, Teddy had finally come around to the fact that he was a brother and two year old James Sirius had gotten a hold of Draco’s wand and nearly killed them all, Lydia sank into the cushions of the couch and closed her eyes. She felt slightly betrayed by the fact that no one had actually told her how painful childbirth was and was struggling to understand how Mrs Weasley had gone through it so many times. 

“How are babies born?” Teddy asked. 

“Painfully,” Lydia muttered, wincing slightly as she moved to let Harry sit next to her. 

“It's a spell,” Hermione told him. 

“Weird...” Teddy frowned, looking down at Fred as he slept in George’s arms. Lydia wasn't sure if the concept of a child being born was weird or if he just found Fred weird. 

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked her. 

“Like my entire body has been ripped in half,” Lydia said, “You're so lucky that you're a bloke, you have no idea,” 

He laughed, “At least Fred’s cute. Merlin, you have two kids now!” 

Something sounded off in his voice and Lydia turned to look at him, “What aren't you telling me?” 

“What?” he asked. 

“For an Auror, you are a terrible liar. What aren't you telling me?”

He grinned at her, “I didn't want to say anything yet because I didn't want to steal your thunder but...me and Draco are adopting another baby,” 

Lydia gasped, “What? When?” 

“Shh, shh!” he whispered, “she's called Ruby,” 

That night, after everyone had gone home and Teddy was tucked up in bed, Lydia and George stood over Fred’s cot in the nursery. He was snoring slightly with his mouth hanging open. Lydia smiled down at him and resisted the urge to pick him up again because she didn't need him to wake up and start crying till the early hours of the morning. 

Then again, she thought, she probably wouldn't mind if he started crying. She was just happy that he was healthy. She was just happy that he was a normal baby with two loving parents and an older brother. There was no scar on his head and no pain in his past, and that was all Lydia had ever wanted. Things were not perfect, but Lydia would not change anything for the world. 

“Welcome home, Fred,” she whispered, gently kissing his forehead. 

**September 1st 2009**

“I keep on forgetting I'm not the one going to school and then panic because I think I've not done my homework,” Lydia said to George as they arrived on Platform 9 3/4, “Do you know what I mean?”

“Not at all,” he replied, fixing the blanket that six month old Lily Daphne had thrown off herself, “Lily, come on, pull yourself together, it’s really cold,”

“Hermione would,” Lydia muttered, “Sometimes I feel like I should have just married Hermione,” 

“You spend so much time together you might as well be married,” he said, he looked over at Teddy and Fred who were walking hand in hand, “Remember when Teddy didn't like Fred?” 

“He only disliked him for half an hour,” Lydia reasoned, “he was an only child for seven years,” 

The doors of the Hogwarts Express opened and it slowly started to fill up. Teddy backed away from the train and stood very close to Lydia and George. For the past year, all he had spoken about was going to Hogwarts but now that the day was finally here, he looked as though it was the last place he wanted to go. 

“You alright, mate?” George asked. 

“Fine,” Teddy said, tugging at the bottom of his jumper, “Fine,” 

“You still have ten minutes before you have to get on the train,” Lydia said gently, “Don't rush yourself,” 

He turned around to face them, “Is Hogwarts scary?”

An image of Lord Voldemort’s face sticking out of the back of Professor Quirrell's head floated to the forefront of Lydia’s mind, only to be replaced by the Basilisk and Dementors and Dragons. And, for a moment, Lydia saw the Forbidden Forest and heard Voldemort shout  _ Avada Kedavra.  _ But then she remembered the first Christmas she ever spent in Gryffindor tower, the Yule Ball, playing Quidditch and finally finding the place where she felt like she belonged. 

“No,” Lydia told him, “there's no place quite like it,” 

“You’ll love it, you really will,” George said, “Even  _ I  _ enjoyed my time there and I don't even like school. Just don’t do what we did and drop out,” he added. 

Teddy managed a smile at him but then quickly look away. Fred yawned and wandered over to Lydia. She stooped down and picked him up as he rested his head on her shoulder, falling asleep. 

“The sorting ceremony-”

“Isn't scary,” George promised him, “You just have to listen to a hat go on with itself for a while,” 

Lydia nodded, “And no matter what your Uncle Ron says, it really doesn't matter what house you get sorted into,” 

“You should try and get sorted into Gryffindor, though,” George said. 

“Don't listen to him, whatever house you get sorted into won't change how much we love you,” Lydia said, reassuringly, “I was sorted into Slytherin and people still liked me,” 

“That's stretching the truth a bit,” George whispered, but only so she could hear. He turned back to Teddy, “You’ll be fine, Ted, honestly. Neville and Harry are working there now so you’ll always get top marks in Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts,”

“Thanks, dad,” Teddy said quietly.

Lydia felt George flinch slightly next to her and she froze. Teddy immediately turned bright red and looked away from them. Teddy had never called them mum or dad before. They had always been Aunt Lydia and Uncle George. Feeling as though she was about to collapse, Lydia turned to look at George who looked as though someone had hit him over the head with a Bludger. 

“Sorry!” Teddy exclaimed, “Sorry! I know you're not my parents, I just - I - I’m sorry, I won't say it again, I-”

“Teddy,” George said, quietly cutting across him, “There’s nothing wrong with - I mean -” he glanced at Lydia who just nodded encouragingly because she had no idea what else she could say, “Listen, son, if...we aren't your parents but...but if you want to call us mum and dad, there's nothing wrong with that,” 

It took a moment but Teddy finally smiled at them and nodded. Lydia let out a sigh of relief and put Fred back on the ground, “go and say goodbye to your brother, Freddie,” whilst they hugged each other goodbye, Lydia took the opportunity to turn away and wipe her eyes. Teddy didn't seem old enough to be going to school, she didn't feel old enough to have a child old enough to go to school. 

George put his hand on the small of Lydia's back, “You know, you are allowed to cry,”

“Not in front of Teddy,” she said, wiping her eyes. She turned back around and hugged him,  “Ready, Ted?” 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Listen, Harry and Neville aren't Harry and Neville at school they’re-”

“Professor Potter and Professor Longbottom,” Teddy said, “Yeah, mum, I know,” 

Lydia's heart leapt a bit when he called her mum but she forced herself not to react to it, “Remember to write. Also, not everyone is a fan of the Holyhead Harpies, so don't get angry at people when they say rude things about the team. The captain being your mum does not mean that people aren't allowed to say they don't support us,” she glanced down at the Holyhead Harpies jumper that he was wearing and winked at him, “but that doesn't mean that you can’t stand up to annoying Falmouth Falcons supporters who are still bitter because I scored that last goal against them,” 

He grinned, “Uncle Draco is one of those supporters!”

“And you should stand up to your Uncle Draco when he's being annoying,” Lydia said, seriously, “The only time you should ever listen to Uncle Ron is when he's pestering Draco,”

“Aunt Hermione says I should never listen to Uncle Ron,” 

“Maybe you should never listen to Aunt Hermione because she  _ married  _ Uncle Ron,” 

The conductor blew the whistle and George carried Teddy’s trunk and his new Owl, Moony, onto the train. Lydia watched them say goodbye and was quite sure that she saw George hand him the Marauders Map. As much as she felt like giving him the map was just setting him up for seven years of trouble making, Lydia felt like she would be letting Remus down if he never actually got it. 

“Are you OK?” George asked, as they watched the train pull out of the station. He looked down at her, “He’s going to be fine,” 

“I know,” Lydia said, holding Fred’s hand as they left the station, “I just...you know, my first year was a...” 

“Disaster?” George suggested. 

“Disaster,” Lydia agreed, “Is it bad that I don't want him to end up in Slytherin?” 

“No,” George said, “I don't want him to end up in Slytherin...I mean, people were awful to you,” 

That evening when Lydia got back from Quidditch practice aching and wanting nothing more than a very long bath, George ran into the living room holding up the mirror. At first, Lydia thought that he might have lost his mind but then she saw the Great Hall reflected in it. 

“Harry?” Lydia asked, laughing. 

George nodded, “Harry,” 

They huddled together on the couch just as the new Deputy Head, Professor Flitwick, called out, “Lupin, Edward,”. In the midst of black-robed first years, Teddy stood out like a sore thumb with his bright blue hair and Lydia was touched that he had not thought to change it to a more natural colour. Though she wasn't sure how that would help him if he ever got on the wrong side of Mr Filch. 

Looking a lot calmer than Lydia had probably done, Teddy sat down on the three legged stool and Professor Flitwick dropped the sorting hat onto his head. There was a very brief silence and then-

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

As the Hufflepuffs began to cheer, Harry turned the mirror back around and grinned into it, “Just like Tonks!” 

“I'm so glad he's not in Slytherin,” Lydia admitted, “I didn't want people to be horrible to him,” 

“He doesn't strike me as the kind of person who’ll put up with much shit,” Neville said, popping his head into frame, “Hello, by the way,” 

“Oh, McGonagall’s glaring at me, bye,” Harry said, quickly, “We’re probably coming to the next Quidditch match! See you!”

Lydia dropped the mirror onto the couch next to her and turned to George, “Will you run me a bath?” 

“Are you incapable of filling the bath up with water yourself?” 

“Do you know how hard it is to throw Quaffles around all day?” Lydia asked, “my arms feel like they're about to fall off!” 

“I don't want to alarm you, but Lily hasn't cried all day which makes me think that she's definitely going to cry all night,” George told her as he stood up. 

“Good job there's no practice tomorrow then,” Lydia yawned. 

No less than five minutes later, Lily started crying but Lydia still wouldn't change it for the world. 

**September 1st 2016**

“Mum! I've lost my badge!” 

“What do you mean you've lost your badge?” Lydia asked, poking her head around Teddy’s bedroom door. 

“I mean I've put my badge own and have no idea where I put it,” he said, “Have you seen it?” 

“Why would I have seen your badge?” 

“Because you’re my mum?”

Lydia rolled her eyes,  _ “Accio Headboy badge,”  _ the badge zoomed out from under the wardrobe and into Lydia's outstretched hand, “you are as incompetent as your Uncle Harry sometimes, you know that?” 

“I wear it like a badge of honour,” 

“No, you don't, because you'd probably lose it,” 

“Mum!” Fred called from the other room, “Dads being mean to me!” 

Lydia sighed and went into Fred's room. Lily was sat on the bed laughing hysterically whilst Fred was stood in the corner of the room, his arms folded tightly. She looked over at George who was trying, and failing, to force a look of innocence onto his face. 

“Why are you being mean to our son?” 

“I'm not!” 

“He said that the Sorting Hat will say embarrassing things about me in front of the whole school!” 

Before Lydia could promise him that the Sorting Hat would do no such thing, Teddy wandered in a nodded solemnly, “it does. I still get laughed at for-”

“Fred, the Sorting Hat does no such thing. It just tells you what house you're going to get sorted into it. Ignore your dad and your brother. They're idiots,” she said, smoothing his hair down and kissing the top of his head, “I need to go to Quidditch practice but have a nice journey to school and don't worry about it too much. It’s never as bad as you think it is, OK?”

He nodded and wiped his eyes, “Will you write to me?” 

“Of course,” she said, “and if you ever desperately need to talk to me or dad, go to Uncle Harry’s office and you can speak to us through the mirror, OK? And you can always find Teddy,”

“Yeah,” Teddy shrugged, “Even if you're not sorted into Hufflepuff you can come to the common room. We let anyone in,”

“See you later, Lils,” Lydia said, kissing her on the cheek. She turned to George, “Tell the others good luck for me?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, kissing her, “have a good practice,” 

As she walked back downstairs, Lydia thought about how it still shocked her when she thought about how many children she, Harry, Ron and Hermione had between them. Christmases at The Burrow was always something stressful and Lydia often felt obliged to apologise to Professor McGonagall on behalf of her children, nieces and nephews. 

“Mum?” Teddy called, “can I speak to you? If you have time,” 

Lydia raised her eyebrows at him but then nodded, “Yeah, I have time. What's up?”

He shifted from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his hair, looking quite troubled, “I - it's stupid, but, I just...I'm really scared about my last year,”

“Why?” Lydia asked, “Teddy, you're Headboy! You're on the Quidditch team, you're smart...” 

“I know,” he said, “I know, I just, NEWTs are worrying and I don't know what I want to do with my life when I leave!” 

“Ted, everyone feels like that. Even Hermione felt like that and she’s probably going to be Minister for Magic one day,” Lydia said, “And, listen, when I was your age, I didn't know if I had another year to live. I thought I’d be dead in six months and-”

“You were for a while,” Teddy muttered. 

“Exactly!” Lydia exclaimed, “You have a life promised to you, Teddy. Enjoy it. Enjoy school. And when you leave school, you’ll fall into something. Me playing Quidditch was kind of an accident, but here I am now!” She smiled at him, “Whatever happens, you will be absolutely fine, I promise,” 

He nodded, “It's just scary,” 

“I know it is,” Lydia sighed, “but think about how scary it must be for Fred, Ruby and Rose today. And this is my last Quidditch season. I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life when it's over! There's always going to be uncertainties in life, we just have to take everything one day at a time,” 

“I know,” he said. George called his name from upstairs, “Coming!” He shouted back.

“Have a good term,” she said, kissing him on the cheek, “be nice to your brother and your cousins. Don't annoy Uncle Harry too much and work hard!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know...” 

Lydia watched him walk back up the stairs and tried not to worry about him too much. It was impossible to not worry about any of her children. Whenever she thought about her time at Hogwarts, she couldn't help but start to compare it to her children's time there. Having Harry and Neville working there made Lydia feel one hundred times better, because she knew that no matter what happened to them there, there would always be someone in the castle who was on their side. 

Teddy going into his final year at Hogwarts was a lot harder than Lydia thought it was going to be. All she could do was think about her own final year at Hogwarts and what a disaster that had been. She still had the courtroom nightmare a couple of times a month, and it did not get any easier to deal with. Sometimes she thought that it might be worse because her children were thrown into the mix, all shouting about terrible of a mother she was. 

“Not the Dursleys,” she whispered to herself. 

**June 28th 2016**

Lydia was not sure who was more thankful about Teddy’s seventh year being over; her or Teddy himself. Throughout the year, Lydia had drove herself insane convincing herself that he would be having as bad of a last year as she had. George had spent the large majority of his year convincing Lydia that he definitely was not having as bad of a last year as she had.

To combat all the anxiety that she had been feeling, George had suggested that they throw an end of year party for them. When Lydia had agreed, he had immediately jumped into party planning and by the time she had come home from seeing Daphne, George and Lily had decorated the entire house in both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw colours after Fred had been sorted into Ravenclaw. 

“Well,” Lydia said, looking around, “It's certainly...bright,” 

“Well, it's Hufflepuff  _ and  _ Ravenclaw,” Lily told her, “because Teddy is in Hufflepuff and Fred is in Ravenclaw!” 

Lydia nodded at her, “Well, yes, I gathered that. It's lovely. I'm sure they’ll both love it,” 

“They’ll be here soon. Ron and Hermione have gone to pick them up with Harry and Draco,” George said, “I think my mum and dad will be here soon as well. And the rest of them,” he added. 

The house was soon full of people. There were so many redheads that Lydia wasn't entirely sure whose children were who's. Thankfully, Lily had the same hair colour as Lydia and was easily spotted in the midst of all her cousins. Although, Lydia was quite sure that when Teddy got home, he would immediately turn his hair red just to mess with everyone. Lydia would never quite get over how she and George lost a ten year old Teddy for the whole of Percy’s wedding just because he turned his hair red. 

“They're here!” Charlie yelled as Teddy and Fred walked into the room followed by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco and the other kids. 

“Hi, mum!” Fred said brightly, hugging her. 

“Are you OK?” Lydia asked him, “How was school?”

“School was school,” he shrugged, “Professor McGonagall says that I'm as good as you and Grandad James at Transfiguration!” 

“Grandad was a lot better at Transfiguration than I was,” Lydia told him, “well done, mate,” 

He grinned at her and ran over to Arthur who was, as always, surrounded by his grandchildren. Teddy wandered over to her, grinning. 

“You're no longer a student,” she said to him, “How do you feel?”

“Both terrified and relieved,” he told her, “I just wish - I just wish that my um...my um...” 

“Your mum and dad were here?” Lydia asked, quietly. 

He looked slightly embarrassed and then nodded, “I mean, I know you're my mum but-”

“You don't need to explain yourself,” Lydia said, quickly, “Believe me, I know how you feel,” 

He grinned and then hugged her, “Thank-you, mum. For everything. For taking me in and-”

“Ted, you don't have to say thank-you,” she said, “Your dad and I didn't take you in for  _ thanks,  _ we just did it because we wanted to do. We wanted you as much as we wanted Fred and Lily,” 

Whenever Lydia was in the same room as James, she was always taken aback by how much trouble one thirteen year old could make on his own. Lydia wasn't sure if he was born a complete troublemaker or if he felt like he had to live up his name. The day Harry and Draco had brought him up, Lydia had warned them that calling him James Sirius was a gamble. 

“Aunt Lydia!” James said, running over to her, “Guess what I just did?” 

“I dread to think, James,” she sighed. 

He beckoned leant closer to her, “I put a spider on Uncle Ron’s plate,” 

As much as Lydia knew she should probably reprimand him, she couldn't help but look over at where Ron was sat with Draco. They were deep in conversation but Lydia immediately spotted the spider crawling along his sandwich. 

It all happened very quickly; Draco saw the spider first and screamed, alerting Ron of the presence of the spider who immediately threw the plate upwards and sent food flying everywhere. Very quickly, Percy, George and Harry were all covered in various pieces of food and there was a shell shocked crawling around somewhere. 

“James,” Draco said, looking over to where his son was doubled over in laughter, “Why do I get the sneaking suspicion that you had something to do with this?” 

Expertly, James managed to mould his face into an expression of innocence and he delicately shrugged his shoulders, “I don't know, but a sneaking suspicion isn't really sufficient evidence to have a go at me,”

“You could be a good lawyer one day,” Lydia said to him, “that was a good argument,”

“My dads won't say this out loud, but I'm actually the best person in the entire family,” he said, sounding absolutely serious. 

“Great Merlin, he is so like Sirius...” Lydia muttered as he walked off. 

“You know, Freddie is really good at Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Harry said, handing her a glass of wine, “Like...ridiculously good,”

“He seems to be good at everything,” Lydia replied, “When we were back for the anniversary, every single one of his teachers came and told us,” she sighed, “I don't really know why I'm surprised, I didn't think he’d have got sorted into Ravenclaw for nothing,” 

Harry laughed, “You haven't had one child sorted into Slytherin,” 

“Lily,” Lydia said, “she's definitely a Slytherin,” 

“How do you know?” Harry asked. 

“Maternal instinct,” Lydia said, “she's more Slytherin than me and Draco put together,” 

Harry shuddered, “terrifying,” 

“Yeah...she’ll probably take over the world one day,” 

When everyone eventually left and the house was quiet again, Lydia walked back into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. George and Teddy were stood in the kitchen eating all the leftover food and Fred and Lily had passed out the moment their heads hit the pillows.

“Lyds,” George said quietly when he walked back into the room, “do you think we should give Teddy the Order of Merlins? The ones that were meant for Tonks and Remus?”

Lydia sat up straighter. She had completely forgotten about the Order of Merlin ceremony. It seemed like such a long time ago. She nodded at him and quickly left the room to go and get them. Lydia had shoved them all into the back of a cupboard with no intent of every getting them out again. 

“Teddy,” Lydia said, “we’ve got you a present,” 

“A present?” Teddy asked, perking up, “why?” 

“It's not a present as such but...” George smiled at him, “We’ve wanted to give you these for ages,” 

Lydia handed the box over to him and sat down, watching as Teddy opened the boxes. He face changed very quickly; at first, he looked very confused and then his eyes immediately filled with tears and Lydia was worried that they might have made a mistake in giving them to him. 

“I...is this actually theirs?” Teddy asked. 

Lydia nodded, “Yeah. Harry and I went up in their place. You were, um, I think you were about three, I think,”

“We want you to keep them,” George said, “I mean, we don't even put our own on display,” 

“Thank-you,” Teddy said, wiping his eyes, “Seriously...thank-you,” 

Lydia was not so stupid to think that everything was perfect, or to even think that everything would one day be perfect. Nightmares were still a very prevalent thing in her life, and she was not sure that they would ever go away. She still had to go to therapy once a week but she no longer dreaded those sessions and she could finally cast a Patronus again. 

She always struggled when Halloween rolled around and the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts never became any easier. Lydia had still yet to make a speech at one of the memorial services, but Harry had finally pulled together enough strength to struggle through one every year. The worst memorial service for Lydia had been the one in Teddy’s first year. They had avoided taking him for as long as they could, but when he started at school, it was unavoidable. He had sobbed through the entire thing and had to take three days of school. 

“When does it stop hurting?” Teddy asked one tearful evening in the hospital wing. 

“It doesn't,” George told him, stroking his hair, “but you learn to deal with it. I miss my brother every day, but you’ve got to keep going, just for them,”

Lydia glanced over at Teddy and smiled to herself. The day they had adopted Teddy was possibly one of the scariest nights of Lydia's life but they had somehow pulled through and raised a perfectly decent kid. 

Things were perfectly imperfect, but Lydia had never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, we’re finished. 
> 
> If you’ve read this far, I just want to say THANK-YOU!! Having people read my work and genuinely love it means the world to me, and I hope you realise how much every comment and kudos genuinely mean to me. 
> 
> Writing this has been ridiculously fun and now that its over, I genuinely have no idea what I’m going to do with my spare time. 
> 
> Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!! 
> 
> ((ALSO!! There is a sequel - ‘Hope, not expectations,’)) 
> 
> -E.


End file.
